


Found & Lost

by WhoInWhoville



Series: FoundVerse [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Adventure, Bonding, Declaration of Love, F/M, First Time Sex, FoundVerse, Marriage, Mind Control, New Earth, Nightmares, Romance, Sex, Snogging, Telepathy, alien aphrodesiac, and i want to emphasize that the non-con scene, and it is the original character, and tragic of course, barcelona, because of mind control, but if you have questions, is very very non-graphic, it is a recollection, non-graphic depiction of rape, noseless dogs, please ask, psychograft, rose acting out of character, threatened rape, virgin fic, virgin rose, who was being controlled by form of a psychograft, whoinwhoville, wow this is a lot of tags but i want to be careful, you can message me on tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 20:09:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 75,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8728477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoInWhoville/pseuds/WhoInWhoville
Summary: After the events of New Earth, the Doctor takes Rose to Barcelona to visit those noseless dogs, but they find adventure and romance instead. Unfortunately, Cassandra made a bigger impression on Rose than the Doctor realized.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in October of 2012. I took it down in September of 2014. 
> 
> This is the sequel to The Lost Day, and begins almost immediately where that story left off. There references to that story, but it is not necessary for you to read it, though you may be a little bit confused. 
> 
> This story is rated Explicit for sex. There is also the threat of rape and a _non-explicit_ description of an original character's past violation. The passage is in chapter 14 - "Neither Black Nor White" (AO3 numbers it chapter 15 because of the prologue). 
> 
> If you have specific questions, please message me at tumblr, where I am whoinwhoville.

## Prologue

New Year's Day dawned cool, bright and clear, and the cold yellow of the winter sun shone upon the TARDIS, which cast her long shadow across the courtyard of the Powell Estate. Inside of the ship, a tall, thin man wearing a manic grin and brown pinstripes prepared his beloved ship for their first real trip together in many months, having only moved her on a few short hops between his cottage in Greenwich and Rose's home a couple of times between Christmas Day and this day. 

It had been a long, lonely year for the Doctor, as he had been separated from both his Rose and his TARDIS for thirteen months. Only a short three weeks prior to today, Rose Tyler had appeared on his doorstep, having been sent by a temporary agency with which she had recently been employed. She knew nothing of regeneration, and he had tried in vain to find her. 

Unknown to himself, his _future_ self, with Rose's consent, had taken away many of her memories of the year, and had brought her to his present time, so that she was only aware of a few weeks of their separation. The Doctor suspected his future self's involvement, as Jackie Tyler had let a few facts slip.

One thing he had gathered, much to his amazement and somewhat to his terror, Jackie referred to his future self as her son-in-law. She'd said it jokingly, but there was something about the way that she had said it that had hinted that there was a kernel of truth to the statement. 

Inside the block of modest flats, a blonde girl wearing jeans, a hoodie, and a big smile stuffed clothing and necessities into a rucksack while her mother sat on the bed.

“Don’t forget your deodorant and those strappy red heels of yours. The ones that make your legs look gorgeous. You never know Rose, the Doctor may want to take you dancing. I see the way he looks at you. And you’re looking at him, too. You aren't fooling nobody. I know love when I see it." 

"Mum.” Rose rolled her eyes. "We aren't that way." 

"And I'm the Queen Mum. You are a bad liar, Rose." 

Rose sighed as she fought to zip her stuffed rucksack shut.

Jackie had been visited by that same future Doctor and Rose herself while Rose, within her timeline, was hiding in Cardiff. Jackie knew things about Rose and the Doctor's future that warmed her heart, and it was all she could do from blurting out reassurance to Rose. 

"Well, you will be that way." She caught her slip, and corrected herself to hoping to belay any suspicion that her daughter may have. "You _should_ be that way." She waited for a few moments while she studied her freshly-painted pink fingernails. "Do you still want to be that way?" she asked coyly. 

Rose ignored the question. "Well, that's everything. Oh wait! Can't forget this." Rose picked up a leather bound diary from her bedside table and tucked it into the outside zipper pocket of her rucksack. The Doctor, before she knew who he was, had given it to her on Christmas Day, right before she realized who he was. "Guess that's all of it." 

"Rose, sit down for a minute." Jackie patted the bed, and Rose complied. "Sweetheart, don't waste this second chance. They rarely come. Tell him. Even if he knows, tell him. He needs to hear it from your lips. And before you say, ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ you know _exactly_ what I’m saying.“ 

“Well, I need to hear it from him too, ya' know," Rose replied quietly. 

"Something tells me that the Doctor down there in the TARDIS, that he's gonna have a hard time _not_ telling you what he wants. Wears his heart on his sleeve, this one does." 

Rose looked out the window down at the TARDIS, standing sentinel in the courtyard below. 

"Tell him. Don't wait too long. Life is short, Rose. Grab happiness while you can."

"He's so different, Mum." She almost whispered.  
"He sure is. An improvement if you ask me." 

"I didn't ask you," she replied a bit tersely and then softened her talk. "I thought I knew him Mum. The old Doctor, the proper Doctor. And then he goes and does this. I thought I could accept it, this changing bodies thing. I was just so happy on Christmas when we found each other, but now I'm having a hard time. I'm so scared. It's all so —“ 

"Real?" Jackie offered. "Sometimes getting what your heart wants most is a scary thing." 

"Yeah. Can't believe I'm talkin' about this, but who else am I gonna tell? Mum, you know how much I loved my first Doctor, and then I stumbled into this one, and it was like there was something there, before, I mean, when he was just Dr. John Smith, my boss. I was immediately attracted to him, and I remember how guilty I felt that I could possibly even think about someone other than the Doctor, but I was excited too. And now? Now that I know he's the Doctor? Why do I still feel guilty?" 

"Don't Rose. He's still the same, deep down, where it counts. Believe your Mum, all right? It'll all turn out okay. I know it will." Jackie hugged Rose and rubbed her back for a moment while she reflected on the times that she had been visited by future Rose and the Doctor, when they were for all intents and purposes, married. 

"I still don't understand why he couldn't tell me who he was. Here I am, working for him for two whole weeks, and he didn't say one thing. Didn't even hint at it." 

"He couldn't Rose. Believe me, he wanted to. It was killing him inside. He simply couldn't." 

The Doctor had told Jackie the warning from his TARDIS, who had orchestrated his year-long exile in London. Rose had to find the truth for herself. It was imperative that he not interfere. 

Rose half-smiled. "Sorta weird. You 'n him getting on. Don't know what to make of it." Rose shook her freshly-cut and bleached hair. 

Jackie looked at the clock radio. "He told you the TARDIS would be ready to travel at nine-thirty. It's time, Sweetheart.” 

The telltale whirring sound of the Doctor's sonic working the front door lock caught their attention. 

Jackie chided the tall man as he grabbed each side of the door jamb and peeked into Rose's room. "Lettin' yourself in now, are you?" 

He cast a smirk at Jackie and then turned his attention to Rose with a grin. "You almost ready? Places to go! Noseless dogs to see!" 

"Noseless dogs?" asked Rose, amused. "How do they smell?"

"Terrible!" the Doctor answered and Rose sputtered in laughter. "I never get tired of that joke." 

"The two of you, you're crazy. C'mon then, give me a hug before you leave." Jackie walked over to Rose and embraced her. "Be careful, Rose. Don't let this one drag you into no civil wars or mud bogs or volcano planets." 

"I promise Jackie, I'll keep Rose safe. No matter what." The earnestness of his voice caught both Rose and Jackie off guard. 

"Thank you Doctor. For everything." Jackie hugged him, and it was his turn to be caught off guard, when he found himself easily returning his own affection to the woman who had once slapped him into the next century. 


	2. Ch 1 - Hello Blondie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose begins to doubt. He left her behind at the hospital after all...

“So, where are we going, Doctor?" 

"Hold on to your hat, Rose Tyler. By the way, that shade of aubergine is lovely against your freshly bleached hair. Oooh, was that rude? I do believe that was. Huh. I should watch that. I really am quite rude in this body aren't I? Let's see, where was I? Oh that's right. Barcelona!" 

With a manic grin and a dramatic flourish, the Doctor flung the TARDIS into the vortex. The comforting, familiar green glow of the time rotor flooded the room and the sound of time thrummed, embraced and entranced Rose Tyler with a song that echoed the mysterious lyrical strain in her mind. 

oOo 

The warm, fragrant wind whipped Rose's hair around her face, and she swiped it out of her eyes. Together, they stepped onto the lovely green bluff overlooking the elegant metropolis across the clear blue water. Quietly humming flying vehicles skimmed the air over their heads. The blue sky was dotted with puffy white clouds. 

"Welcome to New Earth, Rose Tyler. That city over there," the Doctor gestured widely, "is New New New NaNaNa New New NaNa New New New New York, and the year is five billion twenty-three." With a self-satisfied smile, he plunged his hands into his pockets and studied the look of awe on Rose's face as she took in the overwhelming reality of the age of the universe and the beauty of the vista. "It isn't Barcelona, but it does have its own charms. Sniff. Go ahead, take in a big old nose-full," he commanded giddily. "It's Apple Grass..." the Doctor explained with a slight giggle. 

"Apple grass." Rose closed her eyes and bit her lip as she inhaled once again, and then her face broke into a wide smile. 

The Doctor shrugged off his coat and laid it on the grass. He tugged Rose down to join him, and they stretched out side by side studying the clouds, watching the flying vehicles, and listening to the wind. After a while, Rose propped herself up on an elbow and looked over at him before she broke the comfortable silence. "You are so different." 

"How so?" 

"You're younger, more light-hearted. Not that you weren't excited about life before, but this you. I can't put my finger on it exactly. You're, I don't know, it's like you're happier or something. It's like you're a kid on Christmas morning who can't wait to tear off the wrap and dig into his prezzies." 

"The universe is at our fingertips, Rose Tyler. And you and I have found each other again. So, for me, every day is Christmas morning." He grinned wider than she had ever seen him smile before. "Come on then. Let's see why we're here." 

The Doctor jumped onto his feet, and then pulled Rose to meet him. 

She hooked her arm through his and looked up into his eyes. "I love traveling with you, even when we end up someplace we aren't supposed to be." 

"Oh but Rose, we always end up where we are supposed to be, and exactly _when_ we are needed." 

Hand-in-hand, they ran towards the hospital in the distance, the scent of apple grass following in their wake. 

oOo 

"A bit nicer than NHS innit?" Rose looked around the beautiful lobby of the Sisters of Plenitude hospital, and then she noticed them. "They're cats. The nurses are cats." She gawped and pointed at a group of feline bipeds. 

"Don't stare Rose. How would you like to be stared at just because you are all pink and yellow." The Doctor surveyed her from head to toe, and back up once again, pausing to enjoy the view here and there with a hint of a smile. 

"Pink and yellow?" she scowled at him, mouth slightly agape. 

"But oh, what a very lovely pink and yellow," he smiled and squeezed her hand as he clarified his prior statement. 

"Just when I think I've seen it all, the universe springs cat nurse nuns on us. Why we here again?" The Doctor released her hand and handed her his psychic paper. 

"Ward 26," she read out loud. "Who do you know who would be in this posh hospital?" 

"I don't know. But I've been summoned. Oh there's the lift." The Doctor ran ahead, leaving her in his wake as his brown coat billowed behind him like a cape. 

"Hold up will you?" Rose called after him as he dove into the lift without her. The doors slid shut in her face. 

"Sorry and watch out for the disinfectant!" the Doctor hollered through the doors. 

”Wot?"

"Watch out for the disinfectant!"

"Wot?" 

"Watch out — Oh, you'll find out." The Doctor's voice hinted at his slight irritation, and Rose scowled at his attitude. "See you up there." 

Rose heard a series of whooshing sounds, indicating that his lift had whisked him up and away. A second lift opened its doors, and she entered reluctantly. There were no buttons, so she spoke her destination. "Ward... 26... please..." The disinfectant process began as soon as the doors slid shut, and with a shriek of surprise, Rose suddenly understood the Doctor's warning. 

oOo

"Cassandra, you will leave Rose now!" The Oncoming Storm flashed in his eyes. 

"Or what, you hypocrite?" The words produced by Rose's vocal chords carried only the smallest hint of the woman trapped within her own mind. Cassandra's steely voice lashed out at the Doctor. 

"How are you any different than me, Doctor? Really? You can change your whole body in order to cheat death. You want to possess forever just as much as I do. You are just lucky that your biology gave you that ability. I have had to find my own way. I really don't see the difference." Cassandra pushed Rose's chest out and she haughtily tossed her hair. 

The Doctor looked down his nose disdainfully into Rose Tyler's cold, possessed eyes, as he refused to address her accusation. "I said leave her, Cassandra, or I will-" 

"Or you'll what? You won't do anything. There is nothing you can do. You are stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Could say it's more like you are stuck between the Rock of Gibraltar and a very hard place, indeed. Perhaps a wolf's den?" 

He squinted angrily, set his jaw and squeezed his hands into fists. 

"Oh, that got a reaction." She stepped closer to him and taunted his chest with a fingertip, leveling a challenging look at the much taller man. 

"You need to end this now. Your time came and went a long time ago, Cassandra." 

"But I don't want to end my life, Doctor. I want to stay in this body. Young, pretty, and so, _so_ powerful." 

"Powerful. What exactly do you mean? Powerful?" He probed her knowledge. 

"Your Rose Tyler, she is just _howling_ to get out. Just waiting to be unleashed." Cassandra stood on tiptoe and pulled his head down to her mouth and whispered into his ear. "The Bad Wolf." 

The Doctor aimed his sonic at Rose's head and without a second thought, pressed the button. She fell limply into his arms. 

"Mistress! Oh Mistress!" Cassandra's loyal servant, the force-grown clone Chip, ran to Rose's side, and stroked her hair gently. 

Cassandra's voice did not again speak through Rose's lips. Her essence shifted into the tattooed man without a sound. 

oOo 

Rose lay in the TARDIS infirmary in a state of safe unconsciousness. The Doctor had shut down her mind when reasoning with Cassandra had ceased to be an option. In doing so, he had effectively forced the woman's consciousness out of his companion's mind. Rose could not have sustained the duality much longer. He could see it in her eyes - Cassandra was winning the battle for supremacy. Rose's consciousness was being squeezed into a corner, jammed into a space far too small for her being. 

He flushed as he recalled the words that Cassandra had forced through his larynx and directed at Rose. At first she was simply provocative, teasing and taunting, but then cruel lies took their place. 

"You think he's foxy. You've been looking. So many parts, and barely even used! He missed you so much. But Rose, why didn't he find you sooner? Oh wait! He _didn't_ find you, you found him. He must have not been looking too hard. Why would he? Chavvy thing you are, with your bottle-blonde hair, big mouth, no A-levels. What could he possibly see in you other than the obvious? But then again, he hasn't even _tried_ to touch you once, has he? And you thought your were special, didn't you? But you aren't special, Rose Marion Tyler. You are just another dalliance in a long line that he has picked up along the way.

“Oh, you didn't know? You aren't the first, and you certainly won't be the last. Some were beautiful, some were brilliant, and some were both. But all were accomplished men and women, unlike you. You are just a pink and yellow _girl_. You pale in comparison to so many of the others. Take Zoe for example. Brilliant astrometricist, astrophysicist, mathematician. Dr. Grace Holloway was a cardiologist. He even kissed her. And then there was Berniece Summerfield. Dr. Berniece Summerfield, she was an archaeologist. And the Doctor's _lover_. And then there was Sarah Jane Smith. _His Sarah Jane_ he called her. His beloved companion. And you know what? He left her. Without a second look. She was his beloved, and he just shoved her right out the door to fend for herself, hundreds of miles from home with no way to get back." 

The Doctor regarded her face, stroking her hair as she alternated between wincing and frowning. A tear welled in an eye and trailed down her cheek. With tenderness, the Doctor wiped it away. 

"Don't believe her Rose, don't you dare believe her. I love your mouth and your bottle blonde hair. I'd love your hair if it was blue with green spots. I could care less how you dress, what you learned or didn't learn in school. And yes, there have been other people I've travelled with. Brilliant wonderful humans, and they meant an awful lot to me, Rose. But you, Rose, you are special. The _most_ special. You saved the universe, you saved me, and you don't even know it." 

The temptation was great: it would be so easy to gently place his hands onto her temples and read her thoughts, to assuage her fears, to take the doubt away. But he knew that would be a second violation. He was going to have to prove himself to her. Prove how much he treasured her, valued her, and yes, _loved_ her. 

The cruel woman had told him that she was going to plant seeds of doubt in Rose's mind, and Cassandra had indeed exacted her revenge.

_Eighteen Hours Prior_

"Doctor,” Rose clumsily slurred his name as she opened her eyes and found herself as limp as a rag doll, but safe within the support of the Doctor's arms. "What — what happened? Wasgoin' on? Uhhh — I don't feel so good." Rose's head lolled to the side, and her brown eyes rolled a bit. Her pupils alternated between full dilation and closed, small as a pin-prick. Her eyelids fluttered and she groaned as her own consciousness rushed to fill the void left by Cassandra. 

"Cassandra happened," the Doctor spat the words disdainfully and then with turned his full attention to Rose. "Look me in the eye." The Doctor framed Rose's face as he firmly but kindly directed her to look at him. He then placed the fingers of one hand on her carotid artery, and pinched her wrist with his other. He hunched a bit as he looked her squarely in the eyes as simultaneously, he examined the reactions of her pupils, calculated her blood pressure, heart rate and blood-oxygen level with his sensitive hands and extra sensory receptors. Next, he scanned her with his sonic, prodded a ticklish spot on her belly with a long finger, eliciting a giggle, and then thumped her on the back. 

Rose rolled her eyes and complained, "I'm feeling fine now, Doctor, really. I'm okay. Just feel sort of weird is all." 

“Can’t be too careful, Rose. Psychografting is a very dangerous procedure. I only want to make sure you are safe." 

Rose smiled widely and thanked him for his concern, and then she quickly realized what they had achieved, even while under the influence of Cassandra's selfish control. 

"They're free, Doctor. We did it!" Rose fell into his embrace and they shared a celebratory hug. 

"We did," the Doctor smiled down at her. 

A small army of New New York authorities had flooded the hospital and were cataloguing the damage, taking the staff into custody, and rounding up the suddenly free new sub-species of humanity. Scores of awestruck human beings roamed the vast lobby. Some were hugging, others searched for hands to hold, and still others simply smiled and spun around, experiencing the joy of life. 

"Yo buddy." A traditionally-clad New New York police officer with a thick Brooklyn accent approached the Doctor, and gestured his thumb at the force-grown clone, Chip. "This guy refuses to cooperate until he speaks to the two a' yooz." Chip was restrained between two junior officers, shoulders slumped in defeat. 

"Cassandra." The Doctor coldly acknowledged the woman occupying the helpless little man. 

"Doctor, I..." Chip straightened up and his voice took on a fraction of Cassandra's proud affectation. "I am sorry for what I did to you and Rose. I understand now that my time has come. I won't be alive much longer, and I wanted to tell you, and you too, Rose, how very sorry I am for the discomfort that I caused. Although, I suppose something good did come of it." Chip smiled wanly as he surveyed the humanity milling about the facility, and the cat-nurse-nuns that were being led out under heavy security. 

The Doctor tipped his nose in the air, nodding his acceptance of her apology. 

Chip turned his attention to Rose. "I know you won't forget me, Rose Tyler. But perhaps you should be the one thanking me. You did get a rather brilliant kiss out of it, and I happen to know you rather enjoyed it." Chip puckered dramatically and kissed the air, winked saucily, and then topped it off with a rather wicked smile. 

Rose winced, blushing furiously, and looked away from the Doctor at no place in particular. 

"Yeah,” the Doctor drawled the word as he himself blushed, but then half-smiled and rocked on his feet. 

The officers led Chip away. He turned over his shoulder one last time and looked squarely at Rose and the Doctor. Before he was even out of the building, the clone collapsed between the officers's arms. Paramedics rushed to his side, and he was immediately pronounced dead. With a quick swipe of his sonic, the Doctor confirmed that Cassandra's presence was indeed gone. With a sigh, he tucked his sonic back into his pocket, and reached for Rose's hand. 

"How about we take in a Broadway show?" the Doctor asked with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. 

Rose turned and smiled gently at the Doctor, and answered quietly, "I'd love to, but can we wait until tomorrow maybe? I'm knackered after all of that Cassandra stuff and could really use a kip." 

The Doctor looked at her, concerned, as all color drained from her face. She winced, gripped her head and crumpled into a heap on the grass. A brisk gust of wind buffeted the Doctor as he dropped to his knees by her side. 

oOo 

Rose was in a state of fitful half-consciousness, vaguely aware of the calming presence of both the TARDIS cushioning her mind and the Doctor holding her hand; but there was something else there, an unsettling presence that didn't belong. 

"Hello Rose darling."

"What are you doing here?"

"You thought I was gone, didn't you? Yet, here I am."

"But... I thought... the Doctor... he... You were _gone!_ You died! I saw it with my own eyes!" 

"Well, I'm not _really_ here. I am more like... an echo. Think of me as the Ghost of Cassandra Past. Oh, I rather like that. So dramatic, and hearkening back to your own memories. You know, there is a reason those psychografts are banned on so many worlds. Side effects. They are a rather nasty bit of technology." 

"Oh this really doesn't sound good. Doctor help me! Please! I need you!"

"Scream as much as you want, blondie. He can't hear you. It's just you and me in here." 

"It doesn't make any sense. You're here, but you aren't? I don't understand. How can you be talkin' to me? Doctor! Doctor!" 

"Oh stop your screeching. Don't act so surprised. I made quite an impression on that little brain of yours. How could I not? I'm fabulous! So how goes the recovery?" 

"What do you think? You tried to squash my brain like a bug. Why won't you just leave me alone?" 

"Not going so well then? Oh. Sorry about that. Who am I kidding? No I'm not. Not one bit. I may not have been able to take your body away from you, but what I did get was almost as good: the knowledge that I will always be a part of you, Rose Tyler, you little assassin. I will always be right there. Ready and waiting to plant doubt in your mind. Always prepared to turn you against that precious Doctor of yours. Stealing away your trust, bit by delicious little bit. And you know the most scrumptious part? When you recover consciousness, you won't remember that I was here at all." 

"Cassandra. Please. Don't. It's done. Live with it." 

"Ta ta for now, my dear." 

oOo 

In eighteen hours, he had only left her side to replenish his cup of tea. He had moved the basic console controls into the infirmary, and the TARDIS had parked them safely in the vortex. 

The Doctor sat quietly in the dim light of the infirmary. A gentle and familiar green glow brought a comforting glow to the darkest areas of the room, emanating from nowhere in particular. It was comforting, gentle and familiar, a gift from the TARDIS at the Doctor's request. His TARDIS hummed in his head, encouraged him to stay with their Rose; to comfort her, keep her company, guide her back from the brink. 

He had now ascertained that Cassandra's presence had left a more-permanent impression on Rose's mind than he had originally thought. He looked down at his dear patient and surveyed her face. Her complexion was pale and waxy, not the familiar healthy pink-tinged glow that normally graced her cheeks. Periodically, her cheek would twitch, or her brow would momentarily furrow. He studied the sometimes silent words she formed on her red, chapped lips. She had been running a fever, a necessary part of the healing process. 

With great care, the Doctor had placed the monitor leads to strategic places on scalp in order to monitor her synaptic activity. From time to time, he glanced up at the glowing blue screen, and read the characters as they spun, swirled and whirled the complex mathematical calculations. Her mind was in a state of agitation and unrest; and in response, his own mind raced as he tried to interpret what was happening in her psyche. 

He gathered-up her hands and squeezed them gently. 

Eighteen hours of tears...

With his thumb, he again wiped a tear from her face. It was far from the first she had shed, and it wouldn't be the last. 

Eighteen hours of calling out his name... 

"Doctor! Wait!" 

Eighteen hours of repeating the same painful phrase over and over... 

"You left me, Doctor, you left me, and Cassandra... she... she..." and then the tears would fall afresh, and her face would contort painfully. 

The Doctor raked his hand down his face. He knew the words that had gone unspoken. He knew what it was like to have one's mind violated. 

oOo 

"You certainly have been given a lot of time to think, haven't you? And oh the thoughts you have been thinking, you naughty girl! You do have quite an imagination. You really need to stop reading such tawdry books, my dear. What would the Doctor think if he knew what you kept under your pillow?" 

"Shut up, Cassandra, I'm not listening to you." 

"You really do like his new face don't you, Rose? I have to agree. He is rather pretty. Those pink, pouty lips. Oh, it has been so long since I have touched a man. And oh what a man he is!" 

"We're not that way."

"But you want to be with him that way, don't you? You fantasize about it all the time. Especially since you've never _actually_ been with a man before. So pure. Like the driven snow."

"Stop." 

"But it is all in your dreams. Never a reality. He has never so much as kissed you has he? Well, not voluntarily. You, on the other hand have given him plenty of signals. He is either the thickest man in the universe, or well, let's mull over the possibilities. He might not care about that sort of thing. _Gasp!_ Maybe he isn't compatible with you! He is alien, you know. Or maybe he is interested in men... or... maybe he just isn't attracted to you, Rose Tyler." 

"We have kissed! We have! On Christmas." 

"Don't stretch the truth, Rose Tyler, it isn't becoming. You kissed him, he didn't kiss you. Under mistletoe. Tradition doesn't count. And you didn't even know who he really was, did you?"

"But we did! Again! after that! In the snow!"

"Your sweet, chaste, little virgin kisses are nothing compared to how thoroughly I kissed him. If only we had had a little bit more time together. The things I would have done for him. Best not to think about it, though. Will only lead to frustration on my part, and yours. But you are used to being frustrated aren't you? How long has it be for you, Rose, since you've had a lover? Two long, cold, lonely years. But wait. You never have actually had a lover, have you? So I'd say you're a bit... how do I put this delicately? Frustrated." 

"I'm not frustrated." 

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, Rose. I'm a woman, too. I understand these things, believe you me! Mmmm, what a lover the Doctor would make. Those long, slender, strong fingers playing across your skin; touching, caressing, flicking, teasing... exploring. Think of how those hands of his would set your body on fire. I'm getting hot just thinking about it. Oh sweet lord! What it would feel like to run your fingers over his chest, rake your fingernails up and down his back while he-" 

"Stop Cassandra!" 

"Those lips of his, oooo, they felt so good! Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it. Even though I was driving, you were right there along for the ride, you cheeky girl. You loved every single second of that wet, delicious, passionate kiss. A proper snog that was! You wanted it to go on and on and on. Remember how he felt, your body pressed up against his, your curves perfectly lined up against his strong, hard, manly... muscles and parts and oh! I had better stop thinking about it or I might just-" 

"So what if I think he's attractive. What's it to you?"

"Attraction? Oh I think it's more than that, silly child. What you would do to have those fathomless, big, expressive dark eyes rake over your bare skin. But you want more than that don't you? You want it all. You want him to take you body, mind, and soul. You are ready to give yourself over to him. But that will never happen, Rose. I assure you. He doesn't think of you that way. I've been in his mind, remember?" 

"I don't believe you." 

"You found him - the Doctor himself, what, a week ago now? And worked for him for several weeks before that, right? And he never told you who he was. What kind of a man is that? You seem to think he is the love of your life, and yet... Well you fill in the blank." 

"He couldn't tell me. He couldn't." 

"He gave you that tired old rip a hole in time and space excuse again, didn't he? Wearing a bit thin... 

"He knows time better than anyone, an' if he says he couldn't tell me, he couldn't." 

"Oh, isn't that sweet, you defending him like that. You are really in deep, aren't you? You can't bring yourself to admit it. He left you Rose. He ran into that elevator. You begged him to wait. _Begged_ him. But did he? No. He ran off and left you without a second look. And just look what happened." 

"He was just excited. This version of him is... different... he's... more..." 

"He's more what? Your last Doctor would never have dreamed of leaving you. He cared, even I could see that when we met the first time. And looking into your memories of him? You felt safe around him. Always. Every single action of his proved how much he cared for you. He was your protector. He even gave up his life. Just to save yours. Didn't know that, did you?" 

"Whattya mean? Gave up his life to save mine? I don't know what you're goin' on about." 

"Oh, wasn't I supposed to say anything? My mistake. Forget I ever said anything. This Doctor is different. Don't deny it. You've noticed the differences. So many little things about him. Such a flirt! So easily distracted. What happens when someone prettier or smarter comes along and distracts him. Entices him. _Seduces him..."_

"He is free to choose who he wants to be with. He is. But he won't. I know it." 

"You are a naive one, aren't you? And what about how he gets along with your mother? Doesn't that strike you as rather odd? You know, she came onto him. Your old Doctor that is, the first day they met. He flat out rejected her of course. They never got along after that did they? Hated each other. But this Doctor? He and your mother get along famously. I'm telling you Rose, he's a different man." 

"You leave Mum out of this! There is nothing going on between them. He's the same man!" 

"Said so himself, Rose Tyler. New New Doctor."

"I am not listening to you!"

"He left you behind." 

"Shut up!"

"You thought you had found your precious Doctor. But you didn't Rose. You found a new man. Your Doctor is lost to you."

"No. It's not true. He is the same! I know it. He said so."

"Actions speak louder than words, blondie. Time for you to wake up and smell the coffee." 

oOo 

Rose stirred, shifting her head back and forth a few times before her eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was the Doctor looking down at her. He was holding her hand, his cooler skin against her hand felt so good, calmed her nerves. 

"Rose? You with me?" His voice was quiet and soothing to her addled ears. 

"Doctor." Rose said his name breathily as she sat up and propped herself on her elbows. She looked around the room. "What happened? Why am I in the infirmary?" 

"You collapsed on the bluff after we left Sisters of Plenitude. I carried you back to the TARDIS." 

Rose realized she was no longer wearing her jeans and purple blouse. She was in her flannel ducky pyjamas. She blushed as she chose not to ask the Doctor just how she came to be divested of her clothing and dressed for bed. "How long have I been out?" 

"Eighteen hours." The Doctor eased her back onto the bed with a gentle touch to her shoulder. "I've been here the whole time. Well except for a few kitchen runs." 

"Hungry were you?" She looked over at the rubbish bin and saw several banana peels. 

He smiled. "Would you like something to eat?" 

"Yeah, sure. 'M really thirsty." 

"I'll be right back. I have just the thing." He bounded out of the room, and returned a few minutes later carrying a bed tray. 

Rose smiled as she sniffed the savory aroma of steaming hot chicken noodle soup. There was a banana to the side of the saucer which she fingered with a giggle. A luscious chocolate cupcake sat on a paper doily in the upper left-hand corner, and a cup of tea to the right rounded out the meal. A cheerful pink flower in a tiny terra cotta pot decorated the tray. The plant looked something akin to a Gerbera daisy, but obviously wasn't of Earth given the fact that it - she? - was smiling at Rose, and nodded a greeting. The Doctor carefully set the tray across her lap. 

"Bon appétit!" The bed-back inclined with hum, and Rose adjusted her position. "Mmm, it's good," she said with a grin after slurping her first spoonful of soup. 

"When you have finished your meal, I'll draw you a bath. I picked up a bottle of never-popping bubbles up a few years back from the spa on Daybreak. They smell like sunshine and rainbows." 

"Rainbows have a smell?" Rose asked with a giggle. 

"Of course they do. Rainbows smell like snowflakes, lemon drops, and baby bunnies." The Doctor sat by the bed and propped his head on his elbows and simply watched her as she ate. 

"What you lookin' at? Do I have something on my nose or somethin'?" she asked smiling. 

"Oh, nothing really. Just glad to have you back. You gave me quite a scare there, Rose. Don't do that again. I don't like it." 

"Well I didn't really set out to get possessed by that flap of skin, y'know," she replied, one eyebrow raised. 

"How did you end up running into her anyway?" The Doctor asked, his brow furrowed. 

"How did I end up getting possessed? Seriously? You left me Doctor. You just ran away from me, and darted into that lift, leaving me in the dust. She got control of the lift somehow and I ended up in the bloody basement." 

"Sorry," he said, sheepishly. "I was just so excited to find out who had summoned me that I let my feet get the better of me, I suppose. This body, it just _itches_ to run." He gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath. 

"Well don't leave me behind again," she playfully hit him on the arm with a smirk. 

"Ow!" he whinged as he rubbed his arm dramatically, and then they both laughed. 

"So, where to next, Doctor?" Rose finished her soup and peeled her banana. 

"Barcelona, of course! I promised you a trip to visit the noseless dogs, and noseless dogs you shall see." 

"They don't smell," she grinned, a hint of pink tongue poking through her teeth. 

"Never get tired of that joke," he smiled right back. 

Rose's smile faded and she grew serious. "You haven't told me yet, Doctor, how am I? I mean, did Cassandra do any permanent damage to my head?" 

Rose split her cupcake, and handed half to the Doctor, and he popped the entire portion into his mouth. 

"Well, time will tell, Rose. You will probably have some bad dreams for a while as your mind readjusts." He leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms seriously. "You said some things Rose while you were recovering. Over and over again you said that I had left you. You were talking about the lift, right?" 

Rose looked down at her hands and then took a sip of tea. 

"Wasn't your fault Doctor, really. I was just teasin' you." She shook her head. "There was no way you could know that Cassandra was there. And somehow she hijacked that lift. Isn't your fault. Don't blame yourself, all right?" She looked at him earnestly. 

"Rose, I should have been there for you. But I wasn't. I ran ahead. and because of that, we were separated. I didn't do it on purpose." 

"I said s'not your fault Doctor," Rose reminded him in a lecturing tone. "Really. I'm not blaming you." 

The Doctor reached for her face and caressed it gently. "I'm so glad we found each other again." 

"Me too," she said breathily, leaning into his hand. 

The Doctor leaned forward, bracing his hand next to her thigh. She could feel his hand grazing her leg through the thin blanket. Rose looked at his eyes, and darted her eyes down to his lips. She desperately wished that this would be the time that _he_ took the first step and kissed her. Her face flushed in anticipation, and her stomach flipped ridiculously as he looked at her lips and then into her eyes, but instead of kissing her lips, he quickly pressed his lips to her forehead and pulled back. Rose drew in a breath, blinked long and hard, and then opened her eyes and smiled, hoping her disappointment wasn't obvious. 

"Bath time, Rose Tyler! Hurry up! Well, don't hurry too much, take time and enjoy your bath but _hurriedly_ enjoy your bath." 

"Yep. Bath time." She cleared her throat and felt her face flushing. "I'll just be getting up now. To take that bubble bath."

The Doctor cleared her tray away and set it on the counter. The room slowly brightened as Rose swung her legs out of the bed. As she padded towards the door, she could sense the Doctor's gaze warming her back. She turned over her shoulder and offered him a smile as she leaned on the doorway for a moment. 

"Thank you Doctor, for keeping me safe." With that, she left the infirmary. 

While the Doctor nervously tidied the infirmary and shifted the controls back to the main console room, he pondered the last eighteen hours. There was something about the way Rose looked at him that was different. He saw a longing in her eyes; a longing only present when she looked at him. He had known she loved his prior self, and he had certainly loved her, but they could never be that way. Could they? He was almost a thousand years old. Her lifespan would be but a fraction of his. 

That didn't stop other cross-species relationships from being successful. He'd come across plenty of oddly-paired couples who had made a go of it fabulously. Why shouldn't he take this opportunity that had been presented to him? Fifty or sixty more years with Rose Tyler? Would be brilliant. More than brilliant. 

But then he realized that there was a second look in her eyes, just underneath the longing. He saw confusion and fear, and the look in her eyes clearly didn't match her words of trust. 


	3. Ch 2 - Horatio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know what they say about dogs without noses -- they don't smell!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The memory that Rose flashes back to in the restaurant is from Chapter 10 of The Lost Day.

Note: The memory which Rose flashes back to in the restaurant was in chapter 10 of The Lost Day. 

The azure blue sky above was dotted with puffy white clouds floating lazily from horizon to horizon. Rolling hills as high as the tallest mountains in Switzerland were blanketed with evergreen forests so thick that even in the sunlight of mid-afternoon, they looked almost black. Further in the distance, snow-capped, craggy mountains dominated the horizon for the full 360 degrees. 

Rose put her hand to her forehead to shield her eyes from the warm, gentle sunlight as she regarded the city, which was approximately five hundred feet below them. The Doctor had parked the TARDIS on a plateau next to a picnic table high above the city so that Rose would be afforded the pleasure of experiencing the spectacular view of the famed rainbow roofs of Sveldilusia, the prettiest city-state on the northwestern continent of Barcelona. 

"Look at the color of the buildings. S'beautiful. Like a children's fairy story." Rose bounced in excitement and brought her hands to her mouth happily.

"Knew you'd like it here. See the roofs? The different colors signify the ancestral ownership of the home. Homes are passed down generationally, and only very rarely does a home leave the ownership of the family." 

"Don't people ever move around? What if someone gets a job from a different town and needs to live here?" 

"For the most part, people are pretty stable on Barcelona. There is a strong monastic tradition as well, so not everyone pairs off, and those who do choose to marry, have one or two offspring, so the population growth is almost flat. The culture is very non-transient, but welcoming of travelers such as ourselves. If a new family decides to move in, a new home is built on the outskirts of the city. The citizenry of the district get together and have an old-fashioned barn raising, or rather home raising. Everyone pitches in and a house is erected in a day, which is, by the way, approximately 27 hours." The Doctor looked up at the sky and squinted. "Let's head down into town. It is almost teatime, and they have blue chips!" 

The gravel crunched beneath their trainers as they walked down the switchback trail to the valley floor. The Doctor pointed out a grand structure hanging from the hillside on the far side of the valley. 

"We'll take a proper touristy tour of the castle tomorrow. Well, when I say tour, I mean we'll ditch the tour guide and snoop around." He had a devilish twinkle in his eye. 

"Sounds fun. Guess that means I should wear my fastest trainers since we'll be runnin' from the guards." 

"Nawwww, not here. You could even wear those sexy black heels if you'd like, not that I would recommend them for a tour of the palace. Point is, and I do have a point, the guards here are hired for their looks, not their brains or brawn. The monarchy really just wants pretty boys in uniform." He paused, looking at her speculatively. "Then again, may be best we avoid the castle. You and your pretty boys."

Rose rolled her eyes, "You can't still be mad about Adam. Doctor, you know I wasn't interested in him. I thought he'd enjoy a trip, and it's not like we could just, you know, leave him in that museum place to get buried under concrete." Rose stopped suddenly. "Hang on, how do you know I have black stilettos? You been peeking through my wardrobe?" 

The Doctor cleared his throat and ignored the accusation. "How do you think I found your rubber ducky jim jams?" 

"Speaking of which, I wasn't going to bring it up, but since you did, how did I end up in my PJs?" 

"Erm, well," he stuttered a bit, rubbing his neck and tugging nervously at his hair. "Someone had to change you out of your clothes. Couldn't have an uncomfortable Rose in the infirmary. Nope. Needed you to be comfy and cozy. Aids in the healing process. It's a fact." 

"So you did change me, didn't you?" She bumped into his side teasingly. 

"Well you didn't do it yourself. And I didn't look. I promise. I closed my eyes during all of the good parts." The Doctor was earnest in his explanation. 

"Too bad," she grinned and poked her tongue through her teeth and raced off down the trail excited to reach the city. 

"Can't outrun me, Rose Tyler!" The Doctor caught up and draped his arm over Rose's shoulders casually and once again began to explain the society of the city below. 

"So, the guards don't even carry weapons. The subjects of Sveldilusia are, well," he pulled his ear. "Some people might call them as naive. I like to think of the Sveldilusians as charming. Few places are as perfectly peaceful as this little spot of heaven. I forgot how much I loved this place, and I am so happy to share it with you, Rose Tyler." With a grin he pulled her faster down the path straight towards the heart of the city. 

oOo 

Quirkily shaped three-wheeled vehicles puttered their way through narrow and winding streets, within which one could easily find themselves hopelessly lost in the labyrinthine non-system of streets and lanes. 

The native Barcelonans looked similar enough to humans, though were perhaps a bit stockier and shorter. As the Doctor had often explained to Rose, the bipedal, vaguely human-looking model was a rather common blueprint for beings all across the universe. This particular version of humanoid sported light colored skin tones of every range of pastel: blue, pink, yellow, green, orange and lavender. Their hair had a pearlescent sheen, and generally matched the color of their skin, with some exceptions. 

Rose grinned as the pastel-colored people paraded by in their highly stylized clothing and varied hats. The women wore colorful dresses with wide skirts or puffy, ruffled trousers. Many wore intricately embroidered white aprons over their dresses or trousers. Their hairstyles were ornate: braided, plaited, or swept up. The men wore short trousers and brightly colored and wildly patterned knee-high stockings. Many wore braces over finely knitted and patterned jumpers. Everyone sported a hat. 

"This place reminds me of a Dr. Seuss book, and if you tell me Dr. Seuss was from Barcelona I think I might slug you." 

"Why would you hit me? That's not very nice. Dr. Seuss was a pseudonym, Rose. A nom de plume. The author's real name was Theodore Geisel, and no, he was not from Barcelona. He did, however, meet a Barcelonan-" 

"Doctor, what's goin' on over there?" Rose pointed at a small group of people who were milling about in one of the many verdant common areas they had already passed as they explored the beautiful city. 

"Let's find out," he said with a big smile. He pulled her along, darting out into the street, eliciting a honk and a universally rude gesture from the driver of a particularly brightly colored three-wheeled vehicle. 

"Hello, what's going on here?" The Doctor cheerfully approached two ladies who were obviously embroiled in a heated disagreement. 

"Her dog attacked me!"

"He was simply saying hello, Dory." 

"You, Lady Heleine, will be receiving a formal protest from my solicitor in the morning. It's high time that mangy beast was put down. I can see it in his eyes. He has the Wasting!" 

"So it's Lady Heleine now is it? Well, Lady Doreine, How dare you accuse this regal animal of carrying the Wasting! He is a pure blood registered Royal Sentinel Hound, aren't you Sir Rolph?" Lady Heleine bent over and kissed the top of her dog's furry head. "You've had it out for him ever since your sweet LoLo was stricken." 

Sir Rolph stood quietly. Rose walked to the animal and looked at his master. "May I pet him?" 

"Hold off a bit Rose, let me check him before you touch him. We don't know what's going on." 

Sir Rolph let off a bark directed at Rose as she backed away in hesitance. 

"Listen to that. He's barking! Now I am convinced he is ill! He never barks. Stand back, he is sick, I say! Look at those eyes! Just look!" Lady Doreine turned to an onlooker. "His eyes are bloodshot! Wasting! He has Wasting! We'll all be quarantined for sure." The woman collapsed dramatically onto an ornate wrought iron park bench. 

"Everybody! Calm down." The Doctor quietly but firmly spoke, raising his hands as if directing a choir in an attempt to soothe the crowd which was on its way to being whipped into frenzy by the fear of an apparently dreaded canine disease. 

"You. Lady Heleine, that's what she called you, right? Right. First. What is the Wasting?" 

"Plague. That's what it is. It kills a perfectly healthy animal in a matter of days. Took my sweet LoLo a few months ago. Communicable through canine saliva. It isn't dangerous, per se, to people, but it is damned inconvenient. And the itching! Absolutely excruciating! And hives, spots, not to mention the low-grade fever and nightmares for a month. It has swept through our kingdom. Any dog that is stricken is immediately taken away and... and... destroyed." She wiped a tear away. 

"My dog does not have the Wasting. I have a certificate of health right here! Obtained just last week from the Magistrate's office. You know that perfectly well, Dory." The shorter woman fished around in the roomy front pocket of her cheerful and freshly pressed white apron. "I take it with me wherever I go. At least once a day he's accused of the Wasting. It's his eyes. He has droopy eyelids, isn't that right Sir Rolph? You're just old... yes you are... yes you are..." Lady Heleine bent over and kissed the end of his snout, where his nose would be. 

"Her brute came up to me and licked me! Right on the face! And if he has the Wasting, I'll be quarantined for a month. I'm scheduled to leave on a river cruise in the morning. I have been saving up for a year, ever since my dear Edwin died, and tickets are non-refundable. If that dog is ill, you will be reimbursing me five thousand and twenty nicks, Madame, and additional compensation for pain and suffering and mental anguish!" 

"He likes you, Dory. Always has, though I don't understand why he would. I thought he had better taste. And he does not have the Wasting. He's perfectly healthy." The owner of the enormous noseless Barcelonan dog patted her pet fondly. 

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the angry woman for any illness with symptoms as had been described. 

"What is that thing? Stop buzzing me!" Lady Doreine batted the Doctor's arm away. "Who are you? How dare you barge into our private argument! It's rude!"

"You sort of made it everyone's business, what with you shouting and carryin' on. We heard you all the way across the street," Rose interjected. 

"You Missy," the cone-hatted woman pointed a blue-varnished fingernail at Rose, "need to mind your manners. The nerve! Talking to your elders that way." 

Rose turned the corners of her mouth downwards and raised her eyebrows, pulling a rather juvenile face at which the Doctor swallowed a laugh. 

"Damn off-worlders," Lady Doreine muttered under her breath as she straightened the bow under her chin holding the comical topper in place. 

The Doctor raised his hands in self-defense. "We were just trying to help. Meant no harm. Come on Rose. Let's go find some chips. And by the way, I am happy to report, this beautiful dog is perfectly healthy, as are you Lady Doreine." 

"Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose. We'll just be going now." 

"So we're just gonna leave 'em to fight it out?" Rose asked. 

"I have a strong feeling that is an old argument. Nothing you or I say or do is going to solve it. Those two women used to be the best of friends. Did you notice how Lady Heleine called Lady Doreine 'Dory' but Dory maintained formality? I have a feeling there is a lot of history there." 

"You figured all of that out just listenin' to their argument?" 

"Course. Master of reading people, me. And there it is, Rose Tyler, The Chip Hut. Just like I remember it. Well, before I remember it. Hope it's as good as it is fourteen years from now." 

"Timey whimey chips?" 

"And wibbly wobbly. Come on, then." He reached his hand for hers and pulled her across the street, and once again, right into the path of a three-wheeled vehicle, and again earning a rude gesture and a honk. 

They ordered two packets of chips and a couple of frothy and delicious drinks and sat down on a park bench for their snack. 

"Last time I was here-"

"In the future..." Rose interrupted with a smile. 

"...in the future, dogs are everywhere. Almost every family has one, two or even more. I think, Rose Tyler, that I know why the TARDIS brought us here fifteen years too early. We have a mystery to sniff out." 

"We arrived at the wrong time, then?" 

"Well, yeah, I sort of missed, not by much, mind you. But I did mean to bring you right after I was here the last time. No matter. Like I often say, my TARDIS always brings us where we need to be, when we need to be there." 

"You're right about that. But you're still a bad driver."

"Oi! Rose, rude!"

oOo 

Several hours later after much running around town, the Doctor and Rose decided a proper sit down was in order. At the recommendation of a passerby, they were directed to a pleasant looking bistro. 

"Hi, I'm Azynda, and I'll be your server tonight. Would you like to hear tonight's specials?" The waitress was a pretty, young girl. She looked as though she may be of mixed heritage, as although hair was pastel pink, and elaborately plaited in the customary style, her skin, did not match her hair. Instead, it was the color of warm chocolate. Additionally, she was as tall as the Doctor, slender and lithe. 

The Doctor smiled brightly. "Hello Azynda with a Y." He pointed at her name badge. "We would love to hear the specials." He continued to grin at her, his hands clasped on the table. 

Rose watched her carefully, and frowned at the memory of the last time they ran across a perky girl whose name included a Y. 

"Well, I've shared my name. It's impolite not to share your name with me," she said with mock affront, keeping her striking sea-green eyes trained on his. 

"Oh, that was rude of me, wasn't it? Rose was I rude? Of course I was! I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler." 

"Nice to meet you Doctor. Oh, and you too, Rose." She giggled, keeping her eyes on the Doctor's face, not once looking at his companion. 

Rose felt personally affronted and rolled her eyes. 

"Our first special is braised tender of bufoon heaped over a cloud of smashed root vegetables; a bundle of steamed asplager is served alongside. We also have pan-seared line-caught tabafish served with baked pouley-pouley. And of course, we have the house specialty, which I am sure, will be of interest to the both of you." She looked at Rose and winked saucily. 

Rose scowled a bit. "What's the house specialty, then?" 

"Lovers' curry, of course! It's fantastic. I know you'll love it. Not too spicy. A bit creamy. Full of veggies and served with house made flat bread fresh from the brick oven." 

"Oh, we'll have that!" the Doctor interjected without consulting Rose.The server left with a smile.

"What a nice person! I just love meeting new and interesting people!" the Doctor gushed. 

"Oh yeah. Absolutely brilliant." _Has a name with a Y, pink hair, perfect complexion with no spots. I bet she's been server of the week two months runnin'. Always flirtin' with cute girls he is, but still hasn't so much as tried to kiss me._ Rose swallowed her jealously and then a second voice overtook her mind. _"First of all, I'm a flirt. I flirt a lot, and not just with you. Don't hold it against me too much, all right? My hearts belong to you. It will just take a while for me to admit to it."_ She dropped the spoon she'd been fiddling with as the Doctor's voice faded. It was a memory, not a daydream, but she had no recollection of any such conversation. 

"Oh, our food is here already!" the Doctor grinned. 

Azynda set a single black kettle filled with the curry on the table. Alongside she placed a platter of fresh, crisp vegetables and a basketful of fresh flatbread. She refilled their drinks, all without a single word, the picture of discretion and professionalism, and then hurried off to take care of another tableful of guests. Rose dished the delicious smelling food into large white saucers, and handed a saucer to the Doctor with a smile. 

"Wonderfully efficient service at this restaurant. So glad I stopped that man to ask for a restaurant recommendation. Five stars! Molto bene'!" 

Rose tasted the food, and almost moaned her pleasure. The curry was absolutely delicious, the best she may have ever eaten. "This... this is so good!" She giggled and her jealousy of Azynda-with-a-Y quickly faded. 

A few minutes later, Azynda stopped at their table. "Do you two lovebirds need anything else? I'm above to kick off. I have to get all the way across the city before the sounding of the curfew drums. My husband will be worried sick if I don't let him know I'm coming soon. I'm already twenty minicycles late. Donny, -- he's the owner -- he'll take care of you the rest of the night, 'kay? You two have a wonderful rest of your honeymoon." 

Rose almost choked. "Honeymoon? Err, we're not married." 

"Really?" Azynda asked with humorous incredulity. "Could've fooled me. Don't see such a happy couple like the two o' ya' in here very often, unless they are on their honeymoon. This restaurant is known for our signature dish, after all." 

"And that would be?" The Doctor asked, one eyebrow raised. 

"What you ordered, of course. Lovers' Curry! It's got aphrodisiac qualities, or so they say. Can't say it's worked for me though. No kids yet. Oh, that was far too much information. I'm sorry! I let my mouth get away from me." Azynda's exposed ears flushed blue, which Rose read to be her species' version of blushing as she hustled off as quickly as her long, shapely legs could take her. 

Rose cleared her throat. "What did that man say exactly when you asked him for a restaurant recommend, Doctor?" Rose asked with a smirk. 

The Doctor's voice rose uncharacteristically high as he ruffled his hair. "I only asked him for a restaurant recommendation! He said he knew just the place for people like _us_. I thought he meant off-worlders!" He paused for a moment and then lowered his voice. "Is it so bad?" 

"What?" she asked as she tore a piece of flat bread popped it into her mouth. 

"That man and Azynda thinking we are on our honeymoon." The Doctor's voice was quiet, and his eyes were soft, reading her reaction. 

"No." She dragged out the answer with a shy smile. "'Course not." As quickly as the tender moment arrived, it passed. "So, Doctor, noseless dogs. Where are they? From how you go on about this place, I would have thought that the dogs would be runnin' free like squirrels or somethin'. We've only seen the one on a leash, back in the park." 

"You're right, as usual, Rose. I think there is something going on. The whole place. There's is something off. Feels different. Attitudes are slightly shifted somehow. Like people are on edge." 

Time passed quickly as they ate and talked for over an hour. They were sharing a piece of cream-filled cake when the owner, Donny, approached their table nervously. 

"All right then you newlyweds-"

"We're not... we're not..." the Doctor's voice faded in embarrassment as Rose stifled a laugh. 

"I need to close up the place for the night. Time to take your romantic evening for two someplace else. S'getting late. You need to be getting back to your inn, you. You staying close by? Only have about a third of a cycle before you will be locked out." He hastily cleared their dirty dishes and cutlery. "The curfew warning drums are about to sound, and I simply cannot afford to pay the sizable fine if I am caught out after final sounding." 

"Indulge me for a moment would you? We are strangers to these parts-" 

"Obviously, and apparently preoccupied with other things," he winked at Rose and elbowed the Doctor with a guffaw. 

The Doctor decided to play along, and reached across the table and took Rose's hand. "Right. And this is my wife's first trip to Barcelona and my first time to your fair kingdom in many, many -- erm, let's just say it's been a long time. Would you explain the purpose of the curfew? Is there a danger we should know about?" 

"What? The travel agent who booked your trip didn't give you the mandatory warning about our health and safety crisis?" 

"Nope. We self-booked, didn't we darling?" 

"That's right my little tea biscuit," Rose fluttered her eyelashes and gazed at the Doctor in love struck adoration. 

"Mad dogs." Donny whispered the words under his breath, as if he were afraid someone would hear him. "They roam the streets after dark, hunting for flesh. The Queen's people call it the Wasting, but I think it is something else. Something much, much worse." 

Rose looked at the Doctor with a raised an eyebrow and mouthed, "Zombie dogs?" while pulling her ear. 

"Dangerous hounds of Hell, you say?" the Doctor asked as he leaned forward in excitement. 

"Ancient fairy tales, whispers, scary bedtime stories. There have always been stories of the Cursed Barcelonan Death Dogs. Some call them rumors, but I know the tales are true. First a dog gets sick and then they disappear," he snapped his fingers, "like that. Next thing you know, either your dog has been taken away or he simply runs off in the night. We hear barking, whining, crying, and baying nearly every night. I'm telling you, there's something going on." 

"And people? They've been disappearin' too?" Rose asked, concerned. 

"Of course! That's why there's a curfew," he says in nervous exasperation. "Started about 2 grand cycles ago. "Although the legends always tell of the owners disappearing along with their dogs. It's only in the last two grands that the government has actually acknowledged the fact that something has been happening. Call it the Wasting of course, to make it more clinical sounding. But it's the Curse, I just know it." 

"A grand cycle is a year, Rose," the Doctor clarified for Rose. 

"Enough explanation. We can't stay here any longer. I need to be home, and you must make your way hastily to your lodging. My wife and daughter will be worried. Off with you. You must leave now. Running out of time. Must hurry, must hurry." He was obviously a nervous man, and the Doctor and Rose's lack of urgency was only exacerbating his worry. 

The Doctor paid for their meal with that mysterious money he always had on his person and they left, Donny on their heels, nearly pushing them out the door so he could lock up and scurry home. 

"The food was really good, and 'm sorry we held you up. We could walk you home, make sure you are safe?" Rose offered. 

"I just live upstairs, but thank you very much for your kind offer. Come again." The proprietor entered a small alley and made his way to an exterior staircase that hugged the outside of his establishment to his home above the restaurant. 

oOo 

Night had fallen and the stars were twinkling merrily. A peach-hued crescent moon hung in the sky just above the shadowy mountains on the horizon. The roads were nearly deserted, even though it was still early in the evening, evidence that indeed a curfew was in place, and that the citizenry was fearful. As they walked passed homes, Rose noticed curtains being swept aside as nosy and concerned people observed the two off-worlders who dared to walk the streets after curfew. 

"Doctor, what do you think? Dangerous dogs? Or something else?" Rose's eyes shone in the moonlight. Their soft footfall echoed off of the stone walls and cobblestones. 

"What do you think? What are your brilliant instincts telling you?" The Doctor turned to Rose with a smile. 

An elderly lady peeked through her open round window, one story above. "Finally arrived thou hast! Curfew obey thou must! Into my home come thou wilt. One moment, fair travelers, down in a moment be I shall. Patience thou must keep." 

"Why does she sound like Yoda reciting Shakespeare?" Rose leaned over and whispered into the Doctor's ear. 

A dog's bark sounded from inside the home. "I think we have found a place to stay." 

"Thank you kind mother. With the humblest of thanks we accept your hospitality." The Doctor inclined his head graciously to the elegant, elderly woman above. 

"And why you talkin' like that?" Rose guffawed. 

"We have been invited into the home of a very important citizen, Rose Tyler. Her hospitality enjoy we shall, mmmmmm," he mimicked in the voice of Yoda. 

Rose giggled. 

"Visitors thou art. Travelled a long way and a long time thou hast. Into my humble abode thou wilt come, prithee I beg. Tea wilt I prepare. Cake I offer." 

The Doctor and Rose stepped into the small, cheerful home. 

"Horatio, come they have. Right thou were." Standing next to the woman was a large, noseless dog. In stature, he resembled a St. Bernard, although his fur was shorter and chocolate brown with a few black patches on his torso. His eyes were friendly and brown. Horatio immediately approached Rose and sniffed her hand. 

"Adores thou he does. Happy he is." 

"Did you call him Horatio? As in Hamlet's Horatio?" the Doctor asked, amused. 

"Who is this Hamlet to whom you refer? A nobleman? A squire?" 

"The noblest of princes. I'm the Doctor by the way, and this is Rose Tyler." 

"Hi." Rose waved her fingers and pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. She turned her attention to Horatio, and in return, he kept his warm brown eyes on her. 

"Expecting thou, have we been. Horatio foretold, he did." 

"Foretold?" the Doctor asked, as he reached down to scratch the Horatio's ruff. 

"Aye. Your blue box arrived it has." 

Horatio sidled up to Rose and rubbed his side against her leg, and nuzzled his noseless muzzle into her hand. "Wolf! Wolf!" 

Horatio had not barked. He had spoken. The Doctor's eyes were as wide as saucers.


	4. Ch 3 - Curry & Cream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it getting hot in here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is PG-13. TW: Alien aphrodisiac.

Rose Tyler was perfectly aware that she was standing in the foyer of the home of an elegant elderly woman who spoke like Yoda reciting Shakespeare. 

Rose Tyler knew that she had just heard a dog speak. 

Rose Tyler understood that the Doctor was having a conversation with the Yoda Lady, and that said conversation was very, very important and would probably, very most likely, absolutely lead to adventure and excitement and TARDISey Doctorish stuff that she usually really, really loved.

But frankly, she couldn't give a flying flip about any of it. No, at this very moment, the only thing that Rose Tyler could think about was the Doctor's bum. 

More accurately, the only thing she could think about was how the Doctor's bare backside would feel in her hands. 

In fact, not only was she having a hard time diverting her eyes from his arse, she was battling the urge to throw her body at the Doctor, press him up against the wall and wrap her leg up around his waist. She imagined reaching around his fantastically narrow hips, cupping his bum in her hands and snogging the life out of him right then and there, and if she were completely honest with herself, she didn't care if the Yoda-ishy Shakespeare woman was in the same room or not. 

"Rose. Rose." the Doctor waved his hand in front of her day-dreamy face. "Important stuff going on here. Pay attention." 

"Hmmm?" Rose replied, reaching out to touch his hand lightly. The warmth in the depth of Rose's belly subsided, and her mind cleared. 

"Horatio, rude thou art. No wolf comest." The elderly woman leaned over and spoke quietly into her furry companion's ear. 

"Not wolf. Bad wolf!" He spoke again, looking up at Rose. 

Protectively, the Doctor reached for Rose's hand and pulled her close into his side. She could sense his concern, and placed a gentle hand on his chest, between his two hearts, and felt the steady quadruple thrumming beat beneath her touch. 

"Kind mother, prithee, think me not a madman for my question. Does your noble beast speak the Queen's Language?" The Doctor's voice was steady, but his body was rigid. "Or my imagination is it?" 

"Indeed, a rare gift hath he. The most precious gem, is the value of my Horatio." 

Intensity bore down on the Doctor's brow as his mind madly catalogued the acts. Not only had he spoken, he had spoken those specific words: Bad Wolf. Horatio had foretold of their arrival. He knew of the "blue box." 

The Doctor wondered what else he knew. He looked down at the dog. Horatio rose from his seated position to approach the Doctor and Rose, panting with excitement, and tail wagging merrily. 

"Doctor?" Rose looked at the man next to her, worry on her face. "Why does he keep looking at me and sayin' wolf?" She moved her hand from his chest onto his arm, and felt the warmth radiating through the fine wool fabric of his suit coat. 

"Not now Rose." The Doctor raised a finger to silence her, his words clipped. He tapped his forehead. "Think, think, think." 

Rose's feelings were a bit bruised so withdrew her hand and fiddled with her fingernails. 

"Kind mother, again I bid your deference. How did you come to possess such a fantastical and precious creature?" 

"So sorry am I! Introduce myself hath I not! Miss Melynda Minchin am I. In the employ of the Queen I was, though time long wence hath I retired. Alas, so old I am. Five and one hundred grand cycles seen have I." She sighed wistfully in the golden memories of days past. 

"Ooooh, I'd say you didn't look a day over one and ninety." The Doctor fell back into his own voice and a small smile returned to Rose's face. 

Miss Minchin laughed. "Kind thou art. And Queen's parlance it is not necessary thou to speakest, Doctor. Tiring it is, but an old habit so hard to break it is. Retire to the lounge we shall. In the hallway need we not stay." Miss Minchin led them deeper into her home, and beckoned over her shoulder for her guests to follow. "Horatio a gift was. The venerated Queen herself to me Horatio did she give. A gift when I retired from her service, he was. From the Queen's own private kennel he is.” 

"Examine your magnificent —“ 

Rose nudged him. 

"May I examine Horatio with my magic wand?" He showed her his sonic screwdriver. "I promise, it won't hurt him a bit. See?" He waved it around Rose who smiled and wiggled her fingers. 

"Of course, Doctor. Thee I trust. Prove not the safety of thy tool needest thou." 

The Doctor's tenseness dissipated a bit as he examined Horatio. Rose reached out for his hand once again, and he willingly accepted. 

"Do all Barcelonan dogs speak?" Rose looked down at the large animal who decided to drop at her feet in repose. 

"Not all Barcelonan dogs speak, yes, hmmm." Again, the Doctor channeled Yoda.

"Yes they do speak, or no they do not speak?" She stifled a laugh and withdrew her hand form the Doctor's grasp, choosing to stroke his Doctor's back instead. 

"Few speak. Few see. Few know. Wolf. Wolf." Horatio spoke for himself and then he rubbed up against her leg. 

"What does he mean?" asked Rose. 

"Over cake tell you I shall, my lovelies." 

Rose felt restless as they stood in the formal parlor. Her skin prickled as a wave of heat washed over her body. "Doctor, is it hot in here?" 

"No, not particularly. The air temperature is oh, I'd say right around 73 degrees Fahrenheit, 22.778 Celcius, 295.93 degrees Kelvin, and 4.9999999444444 degrees–" 

"I got it, thanks." Rose laughed, tugging her purple shirt away from her neck nervously. It was the same shirt she had worn on New New Earth. She knew the Doctor liked the way she looked in it from the memories that Cassandra had transferred into her mind. 

"The cake retrieve I shall." 

"She has cake, Rose!" The Doctor whispered into her ear. A few puffs of his warm, fragrant breath against the tender skin near her ear sent a warm shiver up her spine. She lightly stroked his hand, dwelling on the feeling of his hair under the sensitive pads of her fingertips. 

"He has an extra lobe in his brain. The dog is mildly telepathic, which isn't really all that unusual. Lots of people and creatures across the universe have developed telepathy. He must have sensed the arrival of the TARDIS since she's a telepathic being." 

"So is the TARDIS translating what he's thinking? His barks as words?" 

"I did wonder that, but no. He truly has a higher intelligence and is actually talking! Horatio the talking noseless dog! Brilliant!" His voice bubbled over with glee. 

Miss Minchin returned carrying a tall, elaborate confection. 

"Ooooh and would you look at that! It's a Bumbleberry Cream Cake! Brilliant! Just look Rose! Look at that cream frosting! Work of art, that is." 

Rose again took on a faraway look. She felt warm, pleasant, and completely relaxed, like she'd had a glass of good wine or two. "Bummmm...bullberry," teased Rose, complete with a tongue poke, as she patted the Doctor's bum. 

"Cheeky," he flirted back with a wink. 

"Sit. Sit." Horatio barked quietly. The Doctor half smiled and they both dropped onto the ornate, but comfortable sofa. 

Miss Minchin placed the tall, cream covered pastry in the center of a marble-topped, low table, and returned to the kitchen. 

Rose felt a sudden and irrepressible urge to drag her finger along the scalloped frosting which ringed the bottom of the cake, just like a naughty five year old at a birthday party. She opened her mouth and moved her tongue over the bumpy ridges of her teeth. 

Slowly and deliberately, she ran her finger along the edge of the frosting until a large glob of the creamy icing precariously balanced on the end of her finger. A bit of it dropped down onto her hand. "Oops!" she said quietly with a giggle as she brought it to her mouth. But before tasting it, she looked at the Doctor. 

"Would you like some?" she asked. Her lips were relaxed, plump and redder than usual. Her flushed face combined with her swollen lips gave the look of a woman who had recently been kissed well and hard. 

"Uh, no thank you," he replied. "Rose? What are you doing?" He furrowed his eyebrows until there were crinkles in the corners of his confused eyes. 

"Can't that big Time Lordy brain of yours see what I'm doing?" Her voice was heavy and thick as she looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "I'm about to lick this delicious, sweet, rich cream. Don't you have any imagination?" Rose put her free hand on his thigh. 

"Oh, I think I have quite a good imagin — a — tioooonnnn." His eyebrows shot to the ceiling when Rose's hand began to travel up his thigh and his quite good imagination kicked in. 

She held up her frosting-covered finger, and examined carefully. "Hmm. Where to start. It looks so good." She growled. "Do you know what I really like Doctor? I like it when it's gotten really hard. You know, when it's been sitting out for a while, exposed to the air. Oh, look at this. A little bit is down here at the base. But the tip is always a good place to start. No, I think I'll go down to the ball... of my knuckle." 

The Doctor's mouth hung open and his eyes were as wide as saucers. He couldn't take his eyes off of Rose's mouth, or quite believe what his ears were hearing. 

Slowly, she ran her tongue over her lips as she examined it, deciding where it would be best to start. Having made up her mind, she locked her deep brown eyes on the Doctor's. She flexed her tongue into a little point, and she began to tease her knuckle, drawing little circles around it. 

"Oh, I missed some. Can't have that," she smiled. Rose flattened her tongue and dragged it over the back of her hand, her eyes never leaving his. She uncrossed her legs and re-crossed them, shifting her hips closer into his side. 

"Uhhhh, Rose...?" The Doctor shuddered as her hand was now dangerously close to the top of his thigh. 

She changed the focus of her attention to her finger itself as slowly she dragged her tongue all the way to the tip until all of the frosting licked clean. 

The Doctor swallowed hard as she then inserted it completely into her open mouth and closed her pink, plump lips. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked and laved her finger inside of her mouth. 

"Uh uh, oh oh!" he uttered nervously and he jumped a bit in his seat as Rose's hand drifted to the inside of his thigh, ever daring closer and closer to a certain portion of his anatomy that was also hard, without the benefit of exposure to the air. 

She pulled her finger out with a pop and a grin. With one final lick of her lips and a pronounced swallow, she pronounced her work complete. "Absolutely luscious," she mouthed. Her dark eyes were still drilled into his. Her pink, pouty, swollen, lips relaxed. 

He said something unintelligible, and then quickly shook himself out of his stupor as Miss Minchin returned, carrying a tea tray. 

"Tea have I. Cake dost thou desire? Slice it now I will." 

"I... I desire... er, yes, I would love a piece," the Doctor stuttered as he tore his eyes from his companion's pert pout. 

"Desirest thou a piece, lovely Rose?" 

"Miss Minchin, I most definitely desire," she looked at the Doctor, "a piece of that perfectly luscious, creamy" she turned back to Miss Minchin, "treat." 

"Curry! Cappa. Cappa." Horatio's ears perked up, and he lifted his head off of the floor. 

Miss Minchin laughed merrily. "At Cafe Cappa, a lovely dinner didst thou have?"

"Yes, it was brilliant. We had the curry." The Doctor's self-control had now fully returned. 

"Spicy and special at Cafe Cappa, the curry is." She sighed. "Though only heard of it hath I. No one to share a curry with hath I any longer," she sighed. "But curry thou hast had, so your night, very long and enjoyable wilt be." She winked at the Doctor and cackled a laugh. 

He looked at Rose and scrunched his nose in question. She shrugged back and shook her head, unclear as well as to what Miss Minchin could have meant. 

"Embarrassed thou needest not be. Love beautiful is. Precious it is." She wagged a long, withered finger at the pair, further confusing them. 

Rose's odd behavior dissipated as the three of them ate their cake while Miss Minchin answered their questions about life in the castle and how she came to own Horatio. While Rose's hand was still on his thigh, it had never again drifted northward. 

There was a break in the conversation, and Miss Minchin's face fell and she sighed, setting her plate of half-eaten cake on the table. "The truth must I tell, Doctor, Rose. Horatio a gift was not. Stole him I did from the Queen's kennel. Hidden him have I for fifteen grand cycles." 

"Why did you steal Horatio?" The Doctor leaned forward, his interest piqued. 

"Precious he is. In danger he was. Unscrupulous guards sold him they would have, to traders to take off world." 

"Oh, I like you," the Doctor said with a conspiratorial grin. 

"Why you tellin' us this now?" Rose asked. 

"Trust you do I. Horatio told me he has, that to Barcelona you have come to save his kin." 

"Now this, we didn't know." The Doctor and Rose looked at each other, and grins spread on their faces. "What makes him think we can save the other dogs?" 

"Wolf! Wolf!" Rose's head snapped to where Horatio was resting. 

"Doctor?" she asked, fearful. 

This time, the Doctor took Rose's hand of his own accord and squeezed it. "Don't worry, Rose. You're safe, all right?" 

She nodded and dropped her head onto his shoulder. 

"Just one more question, Miss Minchin, if I may. The curfew and the rumors of the zombie devil dogs?" 

Miss Minchin giggled. "Old stories are just stories, but convenient, aren't they? The Queen the rumors have spread for the safety of the Precious Ones. At night comest the thieves. Horatio's kin they seek." Her face fell. "The Queen, mad with grief she is for the loss of her Precious Ones. So few left. But a conversation for tomorrow this is. One more night he must wait. Patient he must be." 

"Morn. Morn." He nodded and dropped his head onto his paws.

"My lovelies, young, beautiful and so in love thou art." She looked at them fondly. "Early the night is for you, but tired I am. Sleep I must. For my honored guests, the best chambers prepared hath I. Your room, down the hall it is." 

"Thank you Miss Minchin," Rose said, as she stood to help clear the plates, not touching the Doctor for the first time in over an hour. 

Miss Minchin batted her hand away. "Dishes tonight we shall not clean. To bed with you. Your husband enjoy. Far away my room is from yours, and my hearing very poor is. Love, love, love... beautiful it is..." She cackled in laughter and smiled brightly. "Good night, good night," she waved over her shoulder as she slowly made her way to her bedchambers. 

Horatio lumbered off of his bed and followed his mistress out of the lounge. 

"Night. Night," he barked.

"Goodnight Horatio," the Doctor and Rose called out in unison. 

"Would you like the last bit of frosting? Seeing as how you liked it so much." The Doctor offered his plate in jest. 

Rose's face flushed once again at the timbre of his teasing voice.

"Doctor, do you want me to lick your frosting?" she asked, teasingly.

”Do _you_ want to lick my frosting?" He flirted back with a grin.

"Been wantin' to for ages," she said under her breath, heat surging through her core. 

"Did you say somethin'?" 

Rose ignored his question, intent upon unbuttoning the top two buttons of her shirt. The topmost edge of her lavender bra was exposed. "Is it gettin' hotter in here? It's gettin' hotter in here isn't it. I'm burnin' up." She opened the third button of her shirt. Had she been facing the Doctor, he would've received an eyeful of her cleavage. Rose gathered her hair into a ponytail to pull it up and off of her neck. She fiddling it into a messy knot with a pencil that was laying on the side table. "That's better. Phew!" She fanned her shirt and then pulled the placket wide, exposing the fullness of her chest and lavender bra. 

"Time for the human to go to bed," the Doctor nudged her shoulders, standing behind her, and not paying attention to what was now visible up front. 

"Is that an invitation?" She turned around and teased her fingers over the rise of her breast.

He ignored her question, instead, focusing on her state of dress. "Why is your shirt open?"

"I'm just so hot! I can hardly stand it!" She fanned herself as sweat began to glisten on her neck. 

"Maybe you are having a reaction to the spices in the curry. It was rather potent." He was feeling a bit of deja vu. Cassandra all over again, but this time, he knew the wicked woman was not in Rose's mind. 

The Doctor quickly found their room, and as they stepped in, Rose's mind cleared as fresh air blew in through a high, circular window. 

"What an absolutely charming room. Very, very nice. Look at this!" His voice was high and squeaky like an excited schoolboy. "Barcelonan Cabernet! I haven't had this in years! Of course I haven't been here in years so I why would I? Extremely high alcohol content, however, and would put you straight away to sleep, or want to put a lampshade on your head, not that I have any experience with lampshades, and not that you need any help sleeping. You really do have a talent for it. Complete waste of time, of course. Although, I am suddenly rather sleepy for some odd reason." The Doctor yawned and flopped onto the sofa. He made himself comfortable and placed his arms behind his head, smiling contentedly. He toed off his Chucks and relaxed for a moment, before he realized that Rose was staring at him. Her face was flushed, and she had an unusual look in her eyes. 

"Rose," he said with a scowl, sitting up. "Are you sure you feeling all right?" 

"What are you doing on the sofa? The bed is so much more comfortable." She crawled onto the bed and curled her legs up underneath her body, leaned on her elbow in a seductive pose that provided the best view possible of every curve and rise of her figure. 

"Rose, I'm serious. Why are you acting like this?" 

"Like what, Doctor," she mewed. "Tell me exactly how I'm acting, Doctor. Have I been naughty? Have I been very, very bad? I may need a spanking." She reclined fully onto her back and pulled her knees to the side, writhing seductively as she watched his face. 

Hastily, the Doctor swung his legs off of the sofa and closed the distance between himself and Rose in two long strides. He whipped his sonic out of his pocket and waved it within inches of her face. She pulled her head back and batted his hand away. 

"Your heart rate is suddenly elevated and your body temperature has increased by nine-tenths of a degree." He sniffed the air a few times. "Gimme your wrist." 

"Why do you want my wrist, Doctor? I bet you have something interesting in mind, don't you? Well, why don't you come closer and get it, Doctor." She wrapped her arm around her head, further putting herself on display. 

"Give me your wrist." It wasn't a request, and he didn't wait for her to answer before he took it into his hand and slowly licked the sensitive skin. 

Rose moaned and threw her head back as his tongue ran over the sensitive skin. "Oh, Doctor, you are so, so good at that. I want you to lick me from the tip of my nose to the very bottom of my toes," she said breathily. 

"Simple chemical analysis." He rapidly flicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth a few times, sampling the chemicals she was secreting. "Rose, I am so, so sorry." He looked at her sympathetically. 

"Sorry for what? I am feeling very, very good. Brilliant in fact, but starting to feel a bit needy." Her voice was low and thick, and she shifted her legs as the heat between her thighs grew. She took the pencil out of her hair, and shook her head, sending the golden locks tumbling down. 

"Oh, you aren't feeling quite like yourself are you?" He scrunched his face. 

"Want to watch me to feel myself, Doctor?" She bit her lower lip and moved her hand down her hip and onto her stomach. 

"Rose, stop it. Tell me exactly how you are really feeling. I need to know." 

"Doctor, what do you mean by feeling because sometimes I feel like this and sometimes I don't." She was babbling now, saying whatever thoughts were filling her mind. "It's a sometimes thing, no, a usually thing really. Always when you're around and doing, you know, stuff, and... other stuff. To be honest, it's mainly an always thing, though, so I guess, yeah, I'm feeling like myself. I'm feeling quite fantastic in fact. You know what else is good? What happens in my mind when you're wearing those specs of yours." 

He squinted and looked at the ceiling, biting his lower lip, working out a solution. "I wondered why I was so tired..." he mused. 

Rose couldn't keep her eyes off of his mouth as he brought the tip of his sonic screwdriver to his lips and tapped it rhythmically, deep in thought. 

"The curry! Of course! Rose!" He whirled around. "Your body is metabolizing it as an aphrodisiac, while my biology is treating it in a completely different way! As a soporific!" 

"I don't know what a sofofipic is. Sounds kinky. Doctor," she crawled across the bed, slowly approaching him. "Do you know what I secretly call your glasses?" 

"I don't have the faintest idea. What do you call them?" He cleared his throat and backed away. 

"The specs... of... sex." 

"Really?" The question came out as a squeak. He cleared his voice. "That is very... creative. Fine use of alliteration." He backed further away. 

Rose got off of the bed and pursued him, until she had changed his direction, and he was backing himself directly into the bed. 

"You used to put those glasses on back when I didn't know who you really were, and well, I wanted to do things to you. All sorts of naughty, naughty things. Want to hear what bad things I wanted to do to you Doctor?" The backs of his knees hit the mattress, and he fell backwards onto the bed. The springs squeaked. 

"Ooh, I love a bed with squeaky springs. Like a rhythm section in the band. Me 'n you, we're gonna make beautiful music on that bed, Doctor," she bit her lower lip and looked down at his lap. 

"Rose, this isn't right. You aren't in control of yourself." 

"I like how I feel. It feels good, finally saying what I've been dying to say since, well, forever really." 

"Really?" His voice squeaked again. "How long... exactly?" 

"Since you wore that sexy leather coat. I just wanted to rip it off of your back and throw it across the console room, and then I was gonna pull off your thin little jumper and, oh, Doctor! I wanted you so bad! It hurt so much sometimes I wanted you so much." 

"I didn't know." 

"You aren't a very good liar, Doctor, not to me anyway. I know you knew, and I know you felt the same way, too. Just never did anything about it." 

"I... uh..." He scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand and looked up at the ceiling. 

"Oh come on... don't tell me you didn't see me looking? Mr. Observation? Looked then and I look now." She dragged her eyes up and down his body, her mouth in a perfect 'O'. "Cassandra 

was right. I’ve been looking, and I _like_ it. I like it very, very much." She straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

Their faces were mere inches apart. Their hot breath mingled as their breathing rates had increased significantly. She looked down at his luscious lips, and licked her own. 

The Doctor looked at her lips, and moved his head a fraction of an inch closer. He blinked, swallowed hard, and broke eye contact. He whipped his sonic out of his front pocket, quickly adjusted the setting and aimed it at a bottle of wine that was sitting on the bedside table. He checked the results and nodded. 

"Wine?" He pushed her off of his lap and rolled across the bed. 

"I'm not thirsty for wine, and you know it,” she growled. 

"Oh, but Rose," he was formulating a plan. He hated to do it, but he knew he had to deceive her. "Wine will only make things better, hmmm?" His voice was low and seductive. 

"Really?" Her question was hopeful, Rose-like, and she wore a sweet smile. But as quickly as her natural self surfaced, the temptress returned. "How about this." She slinked towards him and walked her fingers up his chest. "I'll drink some wine if you take off your shirt and tie." Rose wrapped her arms around his torso, and began placing fevered kisses into the hollow of his exposed neck. 

"I... um... shirt and tie... Okay," he squeaked. 

Rose massaged his Adam's apple with her tongue and then shifted her attentions back to his neck, dropping soft open mouthed kisses up to his ear, and then back down the ridge of his pronounced jawline to his chin. The Doctor's eyelids fluttered and his mouth gaped open as she licked and sucked her way across his face. 

Her fevered pace stopped and she pulled back. She looked up at him with tender eyes, and her natural, soft voice returned. "Oh Doctor. I love you, you know. Loved you in leather, and I love you in pinstripes." She stood on tiptoe and gently placed a kiss on his lips and then pulled away, almost shyly, shifting her glance downward. 

The Doctor, knew that this was the real Rose. He rested his forehead against her cheek, their noses lightly bumping, lips so close. 

Slowly, hesitantly, he moved his hand to the back of her head and cradled it. The other arm that was wrapped around her waist pulled his Rose to him and the Doctor kissed her. This kiss, too, was gentle, but passionate nonetheless. Their lips glided and slid slowly, patiently, unhurried. Rose moved her hands into his hair, and tugged at it, encouraging him onwards, and the kiss escalated. She opened her mouth, inviting him in. Tentatively at first, he touched his tongue to hers, and then he fully entered her mouth, allowing himself to feel what it was like to kiss the real Rose Tyler. 

This was not a bitchy trampoline, not a goddess of time, not a woman who didn't know who he really was. He was the Doctor and she was his Rose and this was wonderful and he really wanted it to go on and on. But his Rose was not in her right mind, so with great reluctance, the Doctor moved his hands down to her shoulders, allowed himself another moment of bliss, and then slowly and gently pulled his lips away. 

"If you want me to remove my shirt, Rose," he panted to catch his breath not out of physical necessity, but from the emotional loss, "we're going to have to stop at some point, though I think could do this for a very long time." 

The seductress returned as her eyes glazed over in pure, wanton lust. "I can think of a better piece of clothing to take off," she looked down at his trousers, and inserted her fingertip into the waistband and tugged. 

"Nope. Shirt and tie first. We'll,” he closed his eyes, "negotiate pants." He shook his head, “Er trousers, but only after you drink your wine." 

"Oooo, I like where your mind is going, Doctor." 

She moved away from him, sat on the bed and hastily unbuttoned the final two buttons of her shirt, and tossed it aside. 

The Doctor froze for a moment and let himself, again, give in to temptation. "Oh Rose. You're so beautiful,” he murmured to himself. Her nipples had pebbled under her sheer lavender bra and the skin of her creamy breasts was soft and inviting. He flexed his hands and toes and looked up at the ceiling, gritting his teeth and then raked his hand down his face, as if wiping the thoughts from his mind. "I take off this shirt and tie, and then you will drink the wine. Deal?" 

"Deal. I promise." She held up her hand as an oath, and then fell back on her elbows, thrusting her chest out, watching the Doctor remove his clothing. Again, as if a pendulum was swinging between soft Rose and wanton Rose, the sweet girl returned. "I have wanted this so long, Doctor, and it's finally happening." Her voice hitched, and she got off of the bed. 

The Doctor sighed inwardly at her sincerity. He knew she loved him, and he did love her. He just didn't do _this_. He knew he had to put a halt to this before he lost all of his control. Time Lord or not, a bloke's a bloke, he admitted to himself. He unfastened the final button and took off his shirt, and with a sigh, carefully draped it across the chair next to his blue swirly tie. 

He poured the wine into a glass and held it out to her. "And here, is your wine, Rose. Cheers." He handed her the glass. 

Rose looked at his bare chest, and reached out for the small patch of hair in the center, spread out over his lean, trim muscles. 

"No touch. Wine first,” He said through slightly gritted teeth, mustering the strength from somewhere to resist the need for her hand to touch the spot between his hearts, the spot she already held. 

She took a sip, and then a second, and then downed the glass. "I did my part. Time to negotiate your trousers, Doctor," she said as she set the goblet down on a table. 

"Trousers. Right." He needed to buy time for the tannins in the strong red wine to take effect. "How about you go first." He kicked himself for what he was about to say to her. "Do it slowly. I want to... watch." Oh, that was cruel and all sorts of wrong, but he needed to buy time. 

"Thought you'd never ask, Doctor." She walked towards him, and guided his hands to her waist. "But, can you do it? I've always wanted you to be the one to undress me.” Again the pendulum swung, and sincere Rose spoke. 

The Doctor shook his head slightly, muttering something under his breath, lips moving without a sound, hating how he was leading her on, and at the same time, wishing it wasn't a game, but the real thing. 

"Excited? I've rendered you speechless! I always imagined you'd be more vocal." 

"Well we —“ he swallowed as he fiddled with the button of her jeans, "we haven't gotten to the good part yet, Rose. Won't be able to shut me up then, not that I have a lot of experience with this, mind you." He mentally kicked himself for the egregious lie – not the lack of experience, but the getting to the good part... part. He had no intention of following through. He really didn't. Not that he didn't want to, but, well, he didn't do this sort of thing. 

"I'm getting a bit impatient, Doctor." She sing-songed as he fumbled with her button. She gently moved his hands aside and guided them to her hips. In one fluid move, she unzipped her jeans, shimmied out of them, and kicked them off. 

The Doctor gave into temptation and reverently took in her nearly bare body. 

"Sorry my lingerie doesn't match." She looked down at her at her simple, but teeny white cotton knickers. "I wasn't expecting this to happen tonight. But I'm so glad it has." She bit her lip a bit shyly. "Are you? Glad I mean?" 

"Oh Rose. You have no idea what I'm feeling right now." He kept his eyes on hers, partly to keep his eyes from further drinking in her beautiful body, but mainly so that she could see the sincerity that was there. What he said _wasn't_ a lie. He couldn't put into words the turmoil going between his body, mind, soul, intellect and all of those other complicated Time Lord aspects that were suddenly at war. Rose Tyler was challenging his fundamental beliefs of what it meant to love someone. He believed that by giving her the stars, and all of time, and holding hands, and sharing brilliant hugs, she should know just how much he loved her. In his estimation, no words needed saying, and certainly things didn't need to happen. Or did they? 

Maybe it wasn't enough for her. She was human, after all, and he wasn't. He wasn't supposed to want physical intimacy. So why in the universe did he want her so badly at this very moment? And it was obviously she wanted him. The chemicals in the aphrodisiac couldn't invent attraction, they only enhanced what was _already_ there. 

"Doctor, please. I don't want to wait any more. Please. make love–" Rose stopped mid sentence, dropped onto the bed, looked down at her state of undress and screamed, covering herself with her hands. "Oh my gawd!" Her hands flew to her mouth and she fled into the en suite and slammed the door. The Doctor heard the snick of the lock. 

oOo 

Rose stayed in the bathroom for what seemed like hours, even to the Doctor. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. His shirt was back on, although, he had re-buttoned it rather haphazardly, leaving the tails hanging, and collar open. With slumped shoulders, he slowly walked to the bathroom door and placed his hand flat against the wood. He put his ear up against it, and heard echoes of her quiet cries bounce around the tile-lined room. 

"Rose, I–“

”Go away!" she yelled.

”Please, Rose, we really need to talk about this." 

"Don't wanna talk right now." 

"Rose, it wasn't your fault. You were affected by the curry. Sort of funny, really," he barked an insincere laugh. "Level four aphrodisiac. Potent, that. I should have recognized it, but I wasn't paying attention. I am so, so sorry." 

"Sorry for what? That I have ruined our friendship or sorry that I threw myself at you? Oh, I think I'm going to be sick.” 

The Doctor winced sympathetically as he heard the telltale sounds of painful retching. 

"It's good that you are — ” He stopped mid-sentence as he heard a particularly painful sounding noise. "If it helps Rose, it means the tannins in the wine are purging your system of the offending chemicals. Wonderful thing, tannins." 

The crying started again, muffled behind the sounds of water running and splashing as Rose rinsed out her mouth and threw water on her face. 

"Rose, why don't you take a nice hot bath, hmmm? Might calm you down." 

"Oh yeah, calm me down because I have no control of my... my... body and my emotions and my... deepest secrets that I just spilled!” 

More crying. 

"I think I'll have a glass of wine. You stay in there for a while. I'll sip some wine and let those magic tannins wash away my sleepiness." 

"Oh 'cos gettin' a bit drowsy from alien curry is so bloody embarrassing!" she guffawed. 

Rose burst out of the bathroom wrapped up in a towel to cover her bareness. 

"Rose... I..." 

"I want to go to bed. The stupid ape with no self control is tired," she muttered, stomping through the room. 

The Doctor walked over to her and enveloped her in a hug. 

"Rose, I'm sorry this happened." He spoke into her hair. "You must feel awfully awkward right now, and I hope you know that I don't hold any of it against you. We are still friends, I promise!" 

"Good ta' know," she muttered into his chest with a sniff. "Friends. fan-bloody-tastic." 

”Go on, into bed with you. I'll just be on the sofa, right over there, all right?" 

"Fine." Rose dove under the covers, still wrapped in the towel. 

"Things will be better in the morning. Just you wait. Darkest before the dawn, silver lining, sunshine and daisies and all that, right?" 

"Yeah 'm sure everything will be absolutely brilliant tomorrow." She violently turned onto her side, curled herself into a little ball and pulled the covers over her head. 

The Doctor could see her the evidence of her shaking shoulders, though she wasn't making a sound. Her messy blonde hair was the only part of his Rose that was visible. 

Within moments, Rose had fallen into a deep sleep, thanks to the strong wine and that particular type of exhaustion that only comes from crying. 

oOo

"Hello blondie." 

"What do you want?" Rose answered in her dream state. 

"That was quite an entertaining little show you put on tonight. You should be very proud of yourself. You are quite the temptress. Some of your seduction skills were a bit obvious, of course. Shouldn't expect too much subtlety from a chavvy bottle blonde such as yourself." 

"Shut up, Cassandra." 

"Oh, but he didn't bite the apple, did he? Pity. He looks like he would have a talent for biting. So, how does that make you feel? Rejected by the man you love. A man who supposedly loves you too, or so you keep saying. Perhaps it is a matter of _tenses_? Your old Doctor _loved_ you, Rose. This new Doctor doesn't. It's perfectly clear to me. I simply don't understand why you put yourself through this torture. Loving a man who doesn't fancy you back." 

oOo

Morning dawned rainy and dismal, matching the hazy fog that filled Rose's mind. She felt the bed dip and she lifted her head. 

"You're awake. Good. Here, I brought you tea and some muffinny-popoverfish things. And here is some sort of sausage. Dodgy things, sausages are. This one is a bit strong even for my tastes. You may want to avoid it, although you really could do with a good dose of protein to help you recover from that aphrodisiac hangover. And this sausage, is indeed chock full of protein." 

Rose fell back onto the pillow and wrapped it around her head. "So it wasn't a really bad dream then?" She knew it wasn't, but she had to ask. 

"Nope." 

Rose groaned and then peeked at him through her messy blonde hair. 

"Did I lick frosting?" 

"Yep." 

"And take off my shirt?" 

"Jeans too. You shhhhhhimmied." 

Another groan was heard from deep under the bed clothes. She slowly withdrew from her cave of covers. "And I kissed you didn't I?" 

"Mmm hmm." His face was indifferent. 

"Well it couldn't have been that bad, Doctor. No need to be rude." 

"Oh, it wasn't bad. Not at all. Quite brilliant, actually," he grinned and waggled his eyebrows. 

Rose sat up, holding the covers to her chest. She looked down, and then towards the window. "I told you I loved you." 

"You did." His answer was soft and gentle. "But I understand, Rose. You weren't in your right mind. People say all sorts of things when they are under the influence of an outside substance or force." 

She pulled in a cleansing breath, suddenly feeling bold and brave. "The love part. I meant–" 

"Not another word, Rose." He placed his finger over her lips, silencing her kindly. 

“Drugged-up or not, it still feels bloody shameful to be rejected." 

"Reject Rose Tyler?" He half smiled. "Never." 

Rose groaned. "I don't know if I have ever been so humiliated in my entire life." 

"Today is another day, fresh with no mistakes. Places to go, palaces to visit. I promised you a touristy tour, didn't I?" 

Rose watched his exuberance with a smile, but her mind drifted elsewhere. She had meant what she said. She did love the Doctor. Why had he been so quick to silence her? Surely he knew how she felt about him, gross embarrassment and failed seduction aside. 

"I'll just,” her voice cracked, "I'll just go and get cleaned up." 

The Doctor watched as a Rose Tyler, still wrapped in a towel, retreated into the bathroom. She closed the door quietly. He had seen that same look in her eyes before, when she had finally come out of the fever after Cassandra's possession. The look in her eyes said she didn't quite believe him. 

He decided it was time to convince her just what sort of man he was. Today, he was going to take Rose Tyler on a proper date and show her just how much he did love her. Without actually coming out and saying the words of course, and without the kissing. Or those other things. Because he didn't do those things. Right?

Why exactly didn't he do those things again? 


	5. Ch 4 - The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose is a wee bit embarrassed. She did throw herself at him after all.

She plastered a smile on her face and even attempted a few jokes. All of this was an illusion as inside, Rose Tyler was in turmoil. Soul-searing, excruciating, stomach gutting embarrassment had overtaken her the minute she had awakened. Her refuge from his smile, exuberance and gob was a hot shower. 

The heat of the water pounded almost painfully on her back. Steam swirled and fog filled the tile-walled stall, filling her addled and pain-filled mind, further clogging her thoughts. 

He had brought her breakfast in bed. 

He'd said something about her having an aphrodisiac hangover and forced her to eat those revolting sausages. She was rather surprised when he didn't pull a banana out of his bottomless pocket as a cure-all. 

"So it wasn't a really bad dream then?" she had asked him, already knowing the answer.

He confirmed that indeed, it had not only happened, but it had been a living nightmare that she remembered through the haze. 

Yes, she had seductively licked frosting, and her words had positively dripped with innuendo. Rose was hardly a prude, and had always been a flirt, but last night had been absolutely, positively, completely over the top of the mountain and down the other side. 

She'd stripped off her shirt and her jeans for him. Her stomach flipped painfully at that memory and she rested her forehead against the cold tile. 

"You shhhhhhimmied," he had teased this morning with that, oh gawd, that particular look on his face that made her heart flutter and flip, and stoked that fire at the very core of her being. But as quickly as he had turned on the charm, it had hidden once again behind that wall of... _Doctorishness_. She thought back to a dirty storage room, a tinny radio, and Glenn Miller. 

"Doesn't the universe implode or something if you dance?" she had asked.

“Well, I've got the moves, but I wouldn't want to boast," had been his cheeky reply. 

"You've got the moves? Show me your moves." What had she really been asking? Had she instinctively known to what he was referring? The conversation had very clearly shifted into that territory later. Both parties knew they were not referring to the jitterbug, waltz, tango or samba. 

"...that's what we do when we get out there? That's our mission? We seek new life and... and..." Rose had asked.

"Dance,” he had confirmed

Rose came to a realization: this confusing swinging back and forth between flirtation and chastity was not limited to this face. This was thereal Doctor: all talk and no action. 

"We'll never..." she nearly shouted, "...samba!" 

A new onslaught of tears recalling the next step in their conversation: the kiss, that beautiful, fantastic, best-kiss-of-her-life-up-until-now-kiss. His face had been blank. She hadn’t even seen a _hint_ of a smile. Not a trace of _anything_ to maybe possible shower her that it had been in the least bit pleasurable. 

He'd certainly responded last night. Was he just humoring her? Had that been a part of his plan to get her to drink that wine? To rid her brain of the aphrodisiac? 

Hurting at his response, she had glazed over it with a flirtatious remark. "Well it couldn't have been that bad, Doctor. No need to be rude." 

"Oh, it wasn't bad. Not at all. Quite brilliant, actually."  
He had grinned and waggled his eyebrows at that, only adding to her confusion. Why did this man have to send such mixed signals?  
And then she had asked about her thermonuclear warhead of verbal bombshells. "I told you I loved you." 

He affirmed that she, indeed, had said those magic words. To his credit, he had been kind in his reply. She'd felt a small bit of relief, hope even. But then he had not let it rest there. "But I understand, Rose. You weren't in your right mind. People say all sorts of things when they are under the influence of an outside substance or force." 

She had given herself another chance, oddly brave, pushing it one step further. "The love part... well... I meant–" 

But then he’d stopped her. He obviously knew what she was going to say, and he did _not_ want to hear it. Of everything that had transpired the night prior and this morning, this simple act of cutting her off, preventing her from freeing the words that were bursting to be spoken, this had hurt the most. 

"He can't stand to hear that I love him," she wept. "Oh I'm the thick one, aren't I? Stupid, thick, stupid, stupid human ape. Stupid, stupid, stupid!" She pounded the wall. 

She wondered how so much could have changed between them since Christmas Eve. That night, sitting on that cold wall in the Powell Estate, he had said so much that truly led her to believe that he did love her, and that he just had yet to say the words. He had been so relieved when she finally solved the puzzle, come to the realization on her own that he was her Doctor. 

She had tried to disguise her pain behind defensive words. "Drugged-up or not, it still feels bloody shameful to be rejected, Doctor.” 

"Reject Rose Tyler? Never." His words had been nice, but they hadn't matched his actions, had they? He had rejected her. He had that cat-ate-the-cream-grin on his face when he had said it. He was wearing that smile that he always used when he needed to charm the socks off some unsuspecting fool. 

"Now look who's the fool?" she mused into the steam. "I wonder how many of us have fallen in love with him only to be patted on the head like a good little puppy." 

The thoughts snowballed, tumbling, dragging her emotions further and further downward as the water sluiced off of her back and swirled down the drain. She backed up against the cold tile and slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor of the shower. She hugged her legs and rested her forehead on her knees.

"He left me behind,” she whispered to herself. 

The words echoed and bounced in the recesses of her mind. And then another memory entered into the hazy mix: the doors of that lift sliding shut at the Sisters of Plenitude. 

"Watch out for the disinfectant."

"Wot?"

"Oh, you'll find out,”

"Cassandra happened, that's what,” she whispered. “I was abandoned.”

"Emergency Programme One." His northern voice echoed in her mind. "Have a good life. Do that for me, Rose. Have a fantastic life." 

She'd held her first Doctor on such a pedestal, but when it came down to it, he was the same man after all, wasn't he? "When will he leave me next? He's going to leave me. I know he will. After how I acted last night? He's going to take me back to my Mum's. Back to the Estate. Back to bein' a shop girl, greasy chips for lunch.” 

Her addled thoughts were neither logical nor accurate and the ever mounting fears seemed to come out of nowhere, fueled by an unknown niggling, needling voice echoing over and over again. "He's going to leave you behind. It's what he does best. When things get hard, he leaves you behind. He left you with your Mum. Didn't even tell you who he was. He doesn't love you." 

Rose hoisted herself off of the cold tile floor and onto the built-in seat. She drew in a few deep breaths, knowing she couldn't stay in the shower all day, that she had to face the Doctor at some point. With a pull of the lever, she stopped the flow of the water and then stepped out to towel off. 

Standing in front of the mirror, she examined her red, swollen eyes. Over her shoulder, she saw that her clothing was neatly hanging on a pair of hangers on a hook. She turned around to retrieve the items, and noted that her purple shirt smelled like lavender and vanilla, and that her jeans were soft. Her mind calmed a bit as she inhaled the aroma of the lavender. The Doctor must have soniced her clothing while she slept. She slipped on her jeans. They felt like they did when they were fresh from the TARDIS dryer: not too tight and not too loose. Getting her jeans just right would have taken a long time. She smiled at his thoughtfulness, and her mind calmed. 

"Wait. How does he know how I like my jeans?" she thought to herself and then mentally gasped at the further implication. "How does he know how they're supposed to fit?" The thought of him knowing every curve and rise of her figure well enough to prepare her jeans to fit this perfectly drew out a furious heat. She smoothed her shirt and adjusted the waistband of her jeans until they sat just below her waist, doing her best to tamp down her building desire. 

One of Rose's spare hairbrushes sat on the shelf next to her compact makeup kit. She remembered that the Doctor always kept some of her things in his pockets for times such as this, when they inevitably found themselves overnight and away from the TARDIS. 

"Maybe I'm just embarrassed. Right?" she asked out loud, and then laughed. "Oh gawd, that was mortifying! Frosting!" She fell into hysterics as she tried to apply her mascara. "I'll never look at cake the same way again. He'll never look at cake the same! I'm probably going to have to burn this shirt. I think it's bad luck," she said giggling, tears of laughter falling down her face.  
oOo 

The Doctor sat on the sofa, his arms draped across the back, one long leg crossed over the opposite knee at the ankle. While his posture gave the impression of relaxation, the look on his face displayed brewing concern. Rose was rarely upset, and tears were an even rarer occurrence. He recalled how broken she had been after the death of her father. He had comforted her sobs for hours back on the TARDIS, and once she had calmed, they had shared cup after cup of tea in the library, simply holding hands in front of the fire, not speaking a word. And while her obvious embarrassment, which had driven her to the point of tears, was far less serious than that Reaper- inducing event, it disturbed the Doctor no less. 

Although his hearing was far more acute than human otological abilities, it was not perfect, and he could only make out bits and pieces of her utterances through the muffling sound of showering water. 

"...Rejected..." Crying.

"...take me home!" More crying.

"He abandoned..." Still more crying. 

"Kiss..." Sobbing.

"We'll never samba!" she shouted tearfully. 

"Samba? What does that mean? She's mad because I haven't taken her dancing?" His face was the picture of confusion. "Well, dancing can be fun. Maybe we'll go dancing tonight," he said happily, but his mood changed once he heard her next outburst. 

"He can't stand to hear I love him!" Rose's voice fell silent, but he could hear crying and muffled whispering, though he was unable to discern her words. 

"She really thinks that? No, no, no..." he said softly to himself as he scrubbed his hand down his face. 

A few minutes later, the shower stopped and he heard the sounds of her wet feet hitting the floor followed by a towel whipping off of the rack. It was very quiet for a minute. He stood up from his position on the sofa, and stood outside of the bathroom door. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was all right, but swallowed his words and backed away from the door as he heard hangers clanking followed by giggling and then full bodied, soul-warming laughter. 

"What is going on?" he asked jimself, concerned by the extreme range of emotions his Rose was displaying. He knew that he was going to have to examine Rose more fully, though he was not sure she would agree to the telepathic method which would be most effective. He knew he had to re-gain her full trust because he was sure now. There was something definitely affecting her, something far more insidious than curry. 

And why was she so embarrassed about this particular incident? They had been in embarrassing situations before, lots of them. This was just your run-of-the-mill alien aphrodisiac after all. Nothing she should be ashamed of, and sure, the evening had been a little bit awkward, but it definitely had not been without its merits. Parts of it had been downright fantastic, in fact. 

He smiled at the recollection, but then furrowed his brow wondering if maybe he was wrong after all. Maybe she was so mortified this morning because the curry had made her do things she couldn't see doing with him? Would she have acted that way had she been alone with any other man? He thought she was attracted to him. No, attraction wasn't the right word. He knew she _esteemed_ him. Esteemed: a safer, softer word for love. He sighed at the lie he kept telling himself. She loved him. Had said it so herself.

And he loved her right back. 

Should be simple, right? So why was it so damn complicated then? Instead of dwelling on the complicated mechanics of affection, domestics and... love... he let his mind drift back to the fantastic parts from last night... 

His stomach knotted pleasantly as he remembered Rose Tyler slowly climbing onto his lap, straddling him, pushing herself into him, wanting to feel him, urging him onward. 

He thought of the kiss: wet, warm, languid, searching, needy and altogether brilliant. Best kiss of his life. So far, that is, because he knew that their kisses would get even better with practice, lots and lots and lots of practice. 

"What's got you smilin' so big?" 

Rose Tyler's cheery voice pulled the Doctor from his reverie, and he quickly righted himself. Clearing his throat and proudly setting his jaw, he pushed one hand into the pocket of his trousers in casual nonchalance. 

"This 'n that." He waved his free hand and quickly switched into Mad Inventor mode. "Look what I made while you were sleeping last night, Rose." He dashed to the table and picked up a melange of curlycue wires, waxed string, what looked like spare clockworks, a coat hanger, and a milk bottle. 

"What is it?" she asked. 

"What it is isn't it important. What it does, though, now that is the right question. This is my Talky Walky Doggie Detector!" He held it up proudly. "Push this." He pointed to a red button that he had apparently appropriated from an article of clothing. Rose pressed it firmly and the device began to shiver and buzz in his hands. "Look! It's working. Pointing towards Horatio right now." The Doctor spun around until one of the pointed ends of the hanger was trained on a wall covered with painted portraits of sour looking men and women. "Horatio is somewhere on the other side of that very wall." 

"Well, yeah, 'cos he's in the house, and the rest of the house is that way," she said, hitting his shoulder lightly as she stated the obvious. 

He smirked at her.

"So why do we need that?" she asked. 

"Miss Minchin said the Super Dogs are disappearing, and I want to know who, what, where, when, and why. And how. And when. Did I already say that?" 

"You plannin' on writin' an expose' for _The Sun_?" 

"Don't be silly, Rose Tyler! What we are going to do is far more important. We're going to find out what is going on in this fair hamlet of Sveldilusia." 

"Super Dogs? That's we're callin' 'em, huh? I like that. Where do we start?"

"The palace." He grinned brightly. "I did promise you a proper touristy tour with a side of adventure, didn't I?" 

"Ya sure did," she answered with a grin. 

"Then it's a date." He raised his chin upwards and swallowed. 

"A date?" she asked, confused. "Like some weird version of a Time Lord date? or a real date?" she asked hesitantly. 

"Yes, a real date," he guffawed. "You know, usually the male asks usually the female, although there are a variety of combinations possible, but in our case, I am a male and you are a female, so there you go. Man asks woman to partake of an enjoyable activity for the mutual felicity and benefit of both parties. Seems to me that you should be amenable to the suggestion, after certain—“ He cleared his throat and looked downwards, but then back at her once again, “After things that you said and did last night. And it's not like we haven't been dates before, you know. We went out all the time when you didn't know I was well, me. Went out to dinner almost every night, remember?" He stepped forward and lowered his voice. "Even kissed under mistletoe." 

She blushed at the mention of their kiss in her mother's flat on Christmas Day, just a week and a half prior. 

"But we aren't regular people, are we now, Rose Tyler? We can't just go on a normal boring old date. We need a dash of excitement. A date _plus_. Adventure with datey stuff thrown in, or a date with a dash of adventure, your pick. You know, sight seeing, saving the Super Dogs, a bite to eat in the park, and then, perhaps catch a play? A bit of running from someone in between. We have to have some running from someone or it wouldn't be a proper Doctory-Rosey date now would it? It would help us build up an appetite for dinner and dessert afterwards. We could have cake. And of course, we would end the with dancing." He waggled his eyebrows and watched her reaction very carefully, noting how she had cried that he never had taken her dancing before. "We'll make it an all day event. The whole shebang. I want to show you everything that this lovely city-state has to offer. Whaddayasay?" 

"Sounds lovely. But Doctor, I'm confused. Last night you — didn’t — take me… up… on my—” she picked her fingernails as she tried not to fixate on the word, 'dancing'. 

"Do you really think I would have taken advantage of you in the state you were in, Rose? Hmmm?" Somehow, he put the cobbled-together piece of equipment into a pocket, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He gripped them gently. 

Rose looked up at his warm brown eyes and her fears softened. "No," she said, smiling and shaking her head. She bit her lip and looked down and then back up at him. 

"Good. Then it's settled. I bet that by this afternoon, we'll be laughing about that whole thing." 

"Well, I don't know about this afternoon, but maybe tomorrow." Rose felt a wave of relief wash over her, and the niggling nasty voice faded away. In its stead, a warmth and feeling of safety washed over her as the Doctor put his arm over her shoulder and guided her out of the room. 

oOo 

"Miss Minchin," the Doctor proclaimed grandly as he swept into the breakfast atrium where the elderly woman was finishing her repast, "thank you for your very kind hospitality, but it is time for us to be off. Places to go, things to do, palaces to visit." He paused and lowered his voice and winked at Rose, "A whole day of fun for my Rose." 

"Wonderful the night for your husband wert, if a whole day to thee dedicated he wishes you to give," Miss Minchin said with a teasing voice and a twinkle in her eye directed at Rose. 

The Doctor rocked on his heels, hands plunged in his pockets, smile intact. Rose blushed and looked down at her very interesting trainers. 

"Mate! Mate!" barked Horatio. 

Miss Minchin cackled a laugh as in perfect synchronization, Rose and the Doctor's heads snapped in the direction of Horatio. 

Rose's eyes were as round as the Mystical Sister Moons of Rondo, and her cheeks as pink as the berry preserves spread on Miss Minchin's partially eaten slice of bread. 

The Doctor, on the other hand, was feeing particularly full of himself. He waggled his eyebrows and crouched down so that he was eye to eye with the pooch. "You are such a good doggie!" he whispered into Horatio's perky ear and then scratched the dog with fervor behind his erect ears. 

Horatio merrily wagged his tail, and tipped his head into the Doctor's touch. 

"Speak my mind doth I. Of Lovers' Curry didst thou partake. Public overtures of an intimate nature didst thou offer. Old art I, but blind, art I not." 

"Miss Minchin, last night was embarassin' enough without you bringin' it up, please-" In vain, Rose tried to halt the direction towards which the conversation was moving. 

"Embarrassed? Whyeverfor? Proper should a wife her husband desire. In the curry resideth no magic. Only the truth of the heart doth it reveal." 

Rose's stomach again twisted into knots. The pronouncement had the opposite affect on the Doctor. His prior worries dissolved. The curry would not have caused her to try and seduce any available man. 

"Well then, thanks again. Rose shall we?" In an unusual show of gentlemanly behavior, the Doctor placed his hand at the base of Rose's back and guided her out of the room, toward the front door. 

"Doctor, Rose. Walkest me to the city green? Horatio your company a while more doth request." 

"We really need-" Rose replied with a glance towards the Doctor.

"We would love to Miss Minchin," interrupted the Doctor. 

The elderly woman pulled her cape off of the hook in the wall and swept it over her shoulders. She removed her house shoes and stepped into colorfully spotted knee high Wellies, and pointed to a bucket-full of umbrellas in the corner. "Misty today the weather. Take one." 

The Doctor led the party out the door into the gloomy Sveldilusian morning. 

Horatio trotted up to his side. "Run! Run!" he requested of the Doctor. 

"Oh, I really like you, Horatio!" said the Doctor, almost growling, and off they flew, Horatio leading the chase. 

Rose took one umbrella from the stand and held the door open for Miss Minchin. Once they were outside and the door was secured, the elderly woman looped her arm through Rose's for support. Only now in the full light of day did Rose realize the advanced age and frailty of the kind woman. 

"Lost them forever I fear we hath," Miss Minchin said with a cackle. Arm in arm, they walked in silence down the street past the still quiet homes. 

"I'm sorry about something, Miss Minchin. We aren't — Me 'n the Doctor, we aren't married. We aren't even a couple. We never meant to lead you on or anything." 

"Married not mayest thou be," she said blithely, "but a pair, thou art." 

"No really, we aren't," protested Rose. "Nothing happened last night." She clicked her tongue. "Nothing good at least." 

"Verily, believest thou that a pair thou art not?" Miss Minchin turned to Rose as they walked down the pavement. 

"I — “ Rose hesitated. "I wish we were.” Her voice trailed off and then she took a gasp of a breath. "Last night was a nightmare, Miss Minchin." The words spilled from Rose's mouth. "I said and did things that I — that — Why am I telling you this? I don't hardly know you." 

"Because thou knowest me not, safe am I. Thy secrets no one wilt I tell. Whom tell would I, hmm? Horatio?" She laughed heartily. "But someone confide in thou must, Rose." 

"This is the thing, Miss Minchin. The Doctor is different than most blokes. Any bloke really. He isn't human like me. He had no one until he found me. He saved my life. Changed my life really. I fell in love with him a long time ago. And well, I thought he loved me too. But then something happened. Something really, really big and hard to explain and we lost each other for a while, for over a year – err, over a grand cycle – but I don't really remember most of it. And when I found him again, he had changed, and when I say changed, I mean really changed. Totally and completely different from the man I knew before." 

"Change that much could he?"

"You don't know the half of it," Rose said with a guffaw.

"Separation always people doth change. Different thou art as well, yes?”

Rose contemplated this. "Yeah, I suppose I am. But when I say different..."

"Of the Time Lords I knowest. Regenerate did he? His former self much different wert?" 

"How... did...?" 

"Horatio didst tell. The Doctor's ship, his TARDIS is it called? His TARDIS to Horatio did speak. Of Gallifrey doth our troubadours sing. Defend our world from the Daleks the Time Lords didst." She stopped and patted Rose's hand. "In the ways that matter art he the same, hmm?" 

Rose ignored her question. They had reached the city green now, and Rose guided them to a nearby bench. The rain was now barely noticeable, so she closed the umbrella and leaned it against the bench. Neither women spoke for several minutes, instead looking out over the now awake city. The colorfully dressed Sveldilusians paraded past their bench: mothers pushing push chairs, business people scurrying to reach the public transportation stop in the next block, people running for exercise. A teacher led a group of uniformly-dressed children in two neat rows on their way to school. 

Rose took in a breath, breaking the silence. "The Doctor. _My_ Doctor. He’s the one who saved your planet. He's the one that ended it all. He wouldn't ever tell you that though." 

"Then love this man, how couldest thou not? A man such as this, burdens he must bear. Patience, dear one. Eyes hath I. Lovest thou, he doth. But worried thou art that in words spoken it he hath not?" 

"Never. He has never even hinted at it. But he does things for me all the time. Well, _did_ for me, before.. Took me places. Like to see the sunrise over the pink ocean of some planet whose name I couldn't pronounce, just 'cos pink is my favorite color. And the way he looked at me sometimes. And I've caught him looking at me that way again, since he changed, and I feel like my heart could just burst from it. But then he does the strangest things, too. Like he sent me home just when he needed me the most, and he gets so wrapped up in the adventure of things, that it seems like he forgets that I'm even there. And the last planet we went to? He ran ahead, left me behind and I ended up getting possessed by this crazy woman's brain waves. Some psycho-graft thing." 

"That I do not believe. Forgetest thou? Never. The whole story art thou telling? When he sent you away?" 

Rose sighed and looked down at her hands. "No. I suppose I'm not tellin' it all. He sent me home because he told me it wasn't safe for me to be with him anymore." 

"That art _love_." 

"I found a way back to him! I couldn't just leave him there all alone, with no one to help him. I'da rather died with him than be safe alone." 

"Reckless was that not?" 

"No! I am not reckless," she said defensively. "He is too important to the universe to just let him die there all alone! I had to do whatever I could to at least try and save him," Rose railed. 

“Correct thou art. Not reckless. Devoted. I see why love you he doth." 

Rose's eyes burned as she fought against the tears threatening to stream down her face. "If he loves me, then why did he reject me last night?" 

"Because a gentleman and a hero art he." Miss Minchin pointer her finger in Rose's face. "The acts of one man speaketh louder than the words of a thousand." She gathered Rose into a grandmotherly embrace. "There, there. No more tears needest thou shed. The day to you hath he given, hmm? The most of it make. Through his deeds, I do believe, he shares his heart with you. Not in silly words or affectations. A great gift thou hast been given. To his deeds must thou look." 

oOo 

The Doctor followed Horatio's lead for several miles, until he halted on a public green, just outside the gates of the palace. 

"Old home." Horatio barked several times and then whimpered quietly as he pointed his snout towards the palace. He stretched himself out on the damp grass under a spreading tree. 

The Doctor dropped himself down next to Horatio and draped his arms over his bent knees. "Horatio, may I converse with you? Properly?" 

"Yes. Yes." 

"This is a first. Never have conversed with a Barcelonan noseless dog via telepathy before. Ha!"

"Head. Ear." Horatio tipped his head to the right and perked his ear. 

The Doctor changed position so that he was sitting cross-legged, directly facing Horatio. He cupped his hand behind Horatio's ear and looked into the dog's eyes. 

"If there's anything you don't want me to see, just imagine it behind a door, although I can't imagine what a dog would have that he didn't want me to see. Stealing cheese from the counter? Marking his territory?" 

"No doors." Horatio barked as he stretched out Sphinx-style. 

The Doctor breathed in deeply and relaxed himself, preparing to telepathically link with the dog. "Oh! Well now. Here I am. In Horatio's brain. Very interesting. Hello there Horatio. It's beautiful in here. I love what you've done to the place. Nice green grass and trees and lots of delicious looking bones to munch on." 

"Hello Doctor. Thank you for doing me the honor of conversing with me. I have much to say. However, my vocal chords have not developed in such a way as to afford full verbalization." 

"Oh, you are a bright one aren't you?" the Doctor beamed. 

"Well, of course I am. What did you think? That I was a mere beast? I am of the noble line of Sir Bartholomew of Barcelona, Fifth Canine Regent." 

"I did not know there was canine royalty," the Doctor said impressed. 

"Well now you do. So, Doctor, what do you wish to know?" 

"What do you wish to tell me? You've been itching to talk since we arrived. I could tell. My mind has been simply abuzz since we met." 

"Perceptive. First, I hope I didn't embarrass your mate this morning with my teasing. I so do like a good blush on a pretty bi-ped." 

"Rose does blush well, doesn't she?" The Doctor grinned. "But we aren't mates. Although, today is supposed to be a date. What am I doing? I'm talking domestics with a dog." He made a happy sound in the back of his throat. "Horatio, let's get down to business. Why are the Super Dogs disappearing?" 

"Super Dogs? That is rather — what would be the best way to put it? Ah yes. The French had a term did they not? Gauche." 

"Proud a bit?" 

"No Doctor, not proud. Dignified. Before the commencement of the Great Disappearance, we were special advisors to the bi-pedal monarchy. We served as ambassadors between telepathic and non-telepathic beings. Each city-state on Barcelona is graced with their own pack." 

"Huh. I did not know that either." The Doctor stuck out his lower lip and nodded.

"You do presume much, do you not, Doctor? Nay, you do not know everything there is to know." 

The Doctor harrumphed and Horatio laughed, though not unkindly, in his mind.

"You feel at times that you know far more than you should, do you not?" 

"Let's get back to the situation at hand, shall we? Dignified doggies are disappearing. You've been with Miss Minchin home for 15 years. That's a long time, Horatio. Why hasn't anything been done about this? Hasn't there been any sort of formal investigation or something?" 

"Quite. One mated pair per grand cycle has been stolen for the past 20 years. It took a while for the pattern to be noticed, as the population was quite large at one time. It used to be the case that half of the Barcelonan dogs were gifted with our abilities. That number is now perilously low. I fear that we will only survive as a breed for a few more generations. Fewer and fewer dogs are taking mates, and–" 

"What about the other city-states? Disappearing doggies there too?" 

"Oh yes. In fact, Andalusia has completely lost their pack. The last mated pair failed to produce an heir before the early death of the male." 

"How many are left, Horatio? Planet-wide?" 

"Only a handful. 77 mated pairs, and perhaps 400 pups. It is hard to discern how many offspring, as our telepathic abilities do not develop until adolescence." 

"Horatio, how did you tell Miss Minchin of our arrival?" 

"When we served the Court as ambassadors, we were each linked to a biped. Miss Minchin was my voice. She has been fitted with a telepathic receptor implant that is solely paired to me." 

“What’s with the way she talks, you know, all backwards and old fashioned?“ 

"It is the speech of the Queen's court. She says it is habit, however, I believe it is her last link to her life in the palace. She loyally served the Queen for many years, and feels it is a form of respect and honor to continue to speak in the cumbersome old way." 

"Well, bless her heart, she is a dear thing isn't she?" 

"Miss Minchin is a wonderful companion, Doctor. I am grateful that she has kept me safe all these years." 

"One more question, if you don't mind. Why did you say, 'wolf'? Is there something about Rose that—?” 

"Yes Doctor, she has something of the wolf in her," he answered cryptically. "Brave, loyal and a bit wild at heart is she. She would make a fitting mate for the Oncoming Storm I should think." 

"Yeah, well.” The Doctor changed the subject. "Horatio, thank you so much for the meeting of the minds. It has been a unique and fascinating experience. Shall we find Miss Minchin and Rose?" The Doctor withdrew his hand from the dog's head. 

"Run?" Horatio barked. 

"Oh yes!" 


	6. Ch 5 - There's Something Rotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A proper datey-date, Doctor and Rose-style.

Rose and Miss Minchin exchanged heartfelt goodbyes. 

"E're Barcelona leavest thou dost, return and biddest me farewell?" 

"Doctor?" Rose smiled beseechingly. 

"Well, I usually don't do the hanging around bit, but, well, we'll do our best. No promises! Who knows what can happen between now and then? We could be chased off the planet by a sweaty mob of angry peasants with pitchforks." 

"Really? Pitchforks?" Rose rolled her eyes. 

"Wouldn't be the first time. Flaming pitchforks even." He quickly changed the direction of the conversation. "Ready for our touristy tour of the palace, Rose Tyler?" The Doctor held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. 

Rose readily accepted his hand, and squeezed it with a smile. 

"Mind. Talk," Horatio barked.

The Doctor crouched down and placed his fingers behind Horatio's ear. 

"Doctor, you should know that the guards are not to be trusted. We ambassadors have long suspected that they are in league with the nefarious organization which has been responsible for the disappearances. 

"But they are so pretty. They look harmless. Less than harmless even," he said out loud, squinting. 

"You are considered pretty, and you are not to be taken lightly." 

The Doctor pondered for a moment. "I am rather pretty aren't I?" 

Horatio barked a laugh. "They look innocent enough, but do not underestimate their skill, guile, or ruthlessness." 

"Duly noted."

“Doctor, did you ask Horatio about the zombie dogs? About the Wasting?" asked Rose. 

"Oh, I can't believe it! I forgot all about that in the well, excitement of last night." He looked up and smiled. "My brilliant Rose." He returned his attention to the telepathic connection with Horatio. "What do you know about the Wasting? Rose and I stumbled into a couple of women arguing in the park yesterday. One accused the other of owning a dog with the Wasting. And then last night, the restaurateur said there was no such thing as the Wasting, but warned us about zombie dogs. I assume these are not Super Dogs, but run of the mill Barcelonan dogs. Not that any noseless dog from Barcelona is run of the mill, each and every one of you canines are absolutely and completely brilliant, each in your own special way. But... normal Barcelonan dogs are disappearing as well, aren't they?" 

"Yes, Doctor, you are correct. There is an old myth in this part of the world about the Hounds of Hell, or, as you so crudely put it, the zombie dogs. Of course, it is a legend. However, there is no such thing as Wasting disease, either. The Wasting is the name the royal government has given to a mystery which no biped can explain. Not that anyone has asked us, mind you. We dogs have our own theory. We believe the dogs who have been affected, and are tagged as having the Wasting, are actually somehow connected to the disappearances of us advanced dogs. We believe it is some sort of a culling technique–" 

"Interesting!" he interrupted. "So you think the doggie nappers are infecting suspected dogs with some sort of a marking agent? Oh! I think you’re onto something! They are trying to find which dogs are standard – though completely brilliant of course – and which dogs are Super Dogs!" 

"Would you please refrain from calling us Super Dogs?" Horatio asked wearily. 

"Right. Sorry. But whatever it is they are using is adversely affecting the dogs. Making them go barmy. Loony. Act all zombie-ish."

"That's our theory. The dogs that react badly are quickly, ahem, handled." 

"What's the curfew all about then?" 

"Public pressure. People are terrified of the Wasting and purported zombie dogs. So the curfew was implemented several grand cycles ago. No one even questions it any more. It has become a steady source of public revenue anyway. The fines exacted for violation are fantastically high." 

"Bit of a complicated mess, eh?"

"Indeed."

"Well, Rose and I specialize in uncomplicating complicated messes. We'll get to the bottom of it. We always do." 

"Awfully confident in your Rose, aren't you?"

"Of course. She's the best. I only take the best along, you know." 

"But she is different than others with whom you have travelled, correct?" Horatio's inner voice softened. "In your mind, I can see the constancy of your affections for your Rose. Don't deny it, Doctor, I can tell you are trying to-" 

"You are poking your nose places where it doesn't belong, Horatio. That is rude." 

"Doctor, I have not tried to open a single door which you have closed. Your thoughts and affection for her color everything you have allowed me to see. Your very being is filled with warmth and love for the girl." 

The Doctor recoiled. 

"Oh, don't be so damned defensive," Horatio said with irritation. "Miss Minchin has informed me that Rose has confided in her. Your Rose is very confused, Doctor. She does not know where your hearts lie. Hesitate no longer." 

"Horatio, you need keep your nose where it belongs." The Doctor had a hard edge to his inner voice. "How can a dog understand the affairs of the hearts of a Time Lord? Hmm?" 

Horatio did not back down. "How can a Time Lord understand the softness of a _human_ heart? A heart belonging to a woman whose life was altered simply by knowing you? A woman changed by time itself, who was changed _for_ you?”

"What are you saying, Horatio? How can you know any of this?" 

"Your TARDIS is a bit of a gossip," he stated. "If you truly love her, and it is obvious that you do, you will stop toying with her. Your TARDIS concurs with me, by the way." 

The Doctor released his mind from their connection, and drew himself up into a proud stance with a sniff. 

"I'm not toying," he shook his finger at Horatio to Rose's bemusement. 

"Be. True." Horatio barked fiercely and turned to face Rose. She reached out her hand, and ruffled his neck. 

"What was that about?" Rose asked with a smile. 

"Briefing on the palace. Time to go Rose." He grabbed her hand with quick purpose and they left without any further ado. 

"Have fun storming the palace!" Miss called after them as the Doctor pulled Rose along in brisk walk. 

"Be. True!" Horatio barked once again. 

oOo

"Two touristy tours please. The deluxe package. Is lunch included?" the Doctor inquired at the ticket kiosk. 

The bored teenaged ticket agent took a look at the Doctor's psychic paper and wordlessly passed two guest badges through the bars. 

"Thanks. Really. You've been wonderful," the Doctor said mockingly. "I have yet to encounter a culture in the universe where the majority of adolescents on the cusp of adulthood aren't bored and surly. Everywhere you go, it's a constant. Like Christmas and chips." 

They walked up the gravel pathway towards the ornate bronze gates, guarded on each side by soldiers in ceremonial regalia. A family was standing next to one of the soldiers, trying to get him to smile while someone recorded the moment with a camera-like device. 

Rose looked over and smiled. "Just like Buckingham Palace, huh?" 

"You know why the Queen's guards don't smile at Buckingham Palace?" 

"No, why?" 

"I have no idea. Thought you'd know." 

Rose laughed. "I went through a surly angry stage. Right after that disaster with Jimmy Stone." 

"Rose Tyler, surly teenager. I would have loved to see that. Bet I would've snapped you right out of it." 

"You did," she replied with a grin. 

"Did what?"

"Snapped me out of it."

The Doctor smiled. "I bet Jackie didn't put up with that attitude."

"The rows we got into. Fought about everything for a while there," she shuddered. 

"Tell me. What did Rose and Jackie fight about?" 

"Mainly dropping out of school because of Jimmy. Biggest mistake of my life. Jimmy Stone was a tosser. Mum was absolutely right. She may not have a lot of luck in the love department, but she does know a tosser when she sees one. Shoulda listened to her." 

"And here you are on Barcelona, walking through the splendid gates of an alien palace, and you... are with... me." He squeezed her hand, emphasizing his words. 

Rose felt her face flush as she wondered exactly what he had meant by 'with me.' She didn't have the courage to ask. Instead, she simply smiled and squeezed his hand. 

The Doctor turned and gave her his brightest grin. 

"Oh, hello, here we are. Tour queue. This will be fun! I can only count a handful of times that I have taken an actual tour. I always seem to make my own. Although, there is this planet that I must take you to Rose, called Midnight. It's made out of diamonds. Diamonds, imagine that. Now they have a really brilliant tour. So I hear. And a fantastic spa." 

"Just don't correct the tour guide every other minute, yeah?”

"Me? Correct the tour guide?" The Doctor replied, offended. "That would be rude." 

"Exactly." 

"Lookie there, a funicular. Rose, I haven't been in one of those for years! You know, the basic funicular design has been in use across the universe for millennia, with variations of course. My favorite is on Blkneiiskk. Passengers are strapped in upside down, affording a fantastic view of the undersea flora and fauna. Until you pass out of course. Or drown." 

"Undersea?"

"Of course. Blkneiiskk is a water planet." 

"Yeah of course, how could I forget. This compartment looks sorta small. Ya' sure we're both gonna fit?" asked Rose. 

Rose and the Doctor climbed into the third car of the conveyance. The seat was just wide enough to accommodate the two of them, and the roof was low, forcing the Doctor to slump in his seat, and bend his legs until his knees were nearly in his nose. Rose, while significantly shorter than the Doctor, had to slouch a bit as well in order to avoid hitting her head on the roof. 

"Cuddly," the Doctor said, waggling his eyebrows and reaching his arm around Rose's shoulders. "Enjoying our date so far?" 

"So is this an adventurey part, or a datey part?" she asked. 

"Depends. Could tip either way, really, depending upon what happens once we enter that dark, long tunnel." 

The pleasant recorded Svaldalusian folk music that was playing halted and the perky voice of a young-sounding woman came over tinny speakers. "Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to Svalda Palace. My name is Kirky, and I'll be your tour guide. Some safety rules first. Please keep all appendages inside of the funicular at all times, and stay seated. There is no bean gum chewing on the palace premises. If you see one of our famed dogs, do not approach him or her, and of course, never pat, pet, poke, tease, pull or touch a dog. But most importantly and foremost, enjoy your visit to the palace." 

"So many rules! Where's the fun in that?" the Doctor complained under his breath. 

Rose stifled a laugh. 

"Now settle back, and enjoy your ride as we ascend 3,014 mini units in a little under 30 mini cycles. Please pay attention to the history lesson, Ladies and Gentlemen, boys and girls, as there will be a quiz at the end of the tour." She paused for a moment. "I'm joking, of course." No one laughed at the scripted joke. 

The train took off with a jerk and a lurch before settling into a smooth, slow cadence into the dark tunnel, and upward to the castle above. 

"As may know, Svaldalusia is known as the shining palace of 1,000 turrets. But Ladies and gentlemen, they lied. Svaldalusia does not have 1,000 turrets," she giggled, "there are 1,002. The official turret counter lost count and well, lost two of them somewhere along the way. But, shining palace of 1,002 turrets doesn't have quite the same ring to it, does it?" More giggling came from the tour guide, and modest, gracious laughter from a few other passengers. 

The tram pulled into a tunnel lined with dioramas depicting the history of the city-state from their humble beginnings 620 grand cycles prior. The Doctor put his hand on Rose's knee and whispered into her ear. She closed her eyes as his breath sent a shiver up her spine. "This is sort of like the 'History of a Green Planet' at Disneyland Clom, but their animatronics are much better. Bigger budget, I suppose." 

Rose paid little attention to the dull narrative and historical scenes slowly drifting by as all she could focus on was the Doctor's hair tickling her cheek and his warm breath dancing across her ear and neck. 

A young boy in the car to the front of theirs turned around and stared at Rose and the Doctor, gripping the seat. "You're weird," he said in a high little voice. His hair and skin were complimentary shades of blue, though the exact shade was difficult to discern in the dim light of the tunnel. 

"Weird?" the Doctor replied in mock affront, much to Rose's amusement, as she giggled. 

"Yeah, weird. Your hair is all sticky-uppy and brown, and hers is so dull. She don't got no plaits or buns or nothin'. She sick or somethin'? Did she have to cut her hair off as penance?" 

"We aren't from Barcelona," the Doctor answered plainly. 

"Never met anybody from off-world before. Where you two comes from?" He propped his little chin on his hands. 

"Boring hair girl here is from Earth, and I am from very, very far away. No place you have probably ever heard of." 

"Your hair don't matches yours skins?" 

"Nope."

"Well it's weird." 

"I rather like her weird hair and skin, thank you very much. She's my pink and yellow Rose." The Doctor pulled Rose even closer into his side and kissed the top of her head. 

"Ewwwwwwww!" The little boy pulled a face and stuck his tongue out in revulsion. "I ain't never kissin' no girl never! 'Specially one with weird hair!" 

“Binny, turn around and stop bothering the nice people!" the little boy's mother hissed before sending an apologetic and embarrassed look their way. 

Rose settled her head onto his shoulder. 

"Cute kid," Rose laughed. 

"I would say that the scale has tipped decided towards datey." 

"Oh has it now?" Rose enquired. "How so?" 

"Because I am going to quote Shakespeare's Fifty-Seventh sonnet to you. That is a datey thing to do isn't it? Especially when the narrative from the tour guide is so bloody dull." 

"Might do," she answered breathily. 

The Doctor placed his mouth next to her ear and recited the words with a softness of voice which she had never heard. His breath did not painfully puff into her ear, nor was it a whisper. It was almost as if he were simply breathing the words directly into her mind. 

_Being your slave, what should I do but tend Upon the hours and times of your desire?_  
I have no precious time at all to spend,  
Nor services to do, till you require. 

_Nor dare I chide the world-without-end hour Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you, Nor think the bitterness of absence sour_  
When you have bid your servant once adieu; Nor dare I question with my jealous thought Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,  
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought Save, where you are how happy you make those. So true a fool is love that in your will, 

_Though you do any thing, he thinks no ill._

"Need a translation?" he asked, after Rose sat in quiet contemplation. 

"No. I think I got the gist of it." 

"Every word is true, you know." 

"You really think of me in that way? No one has ever said words like that to me before, Doctor." 

"Your loss, my gain." He held each her gaze for a moment and then looked away, breaking the spell. "This is dull," the Doctor pronounced as he fiddled with his sonic. 

"Not to me," she whispered encouragingly as she leaned her head on his shoulder. 

"Let's ditch the tour. I have something much, much better in mind," he nearly growled the words. 

"Yeah?" Rose asked, hopefully. 

"Oh much." He smiled and looked at her with his soulful, brown eyes. "Rose Tyler, may I kiss you?" 

"Yeah," she replied softly. 

"Brilliant! I'll keep that in mind for future reference. When I say go, get off." 

"Huh?" she frowned, confused. 

"Jump when I tell you to," he said, smiling. "It's very steep – make sure you aim for the emergency exit platform. It's coming up in seven seconds. See that green sign?" 

"I'm confused," she said softly and then thought to herself, "maybe I imagined it." She continued, crestfallen, "Yeah, I see it." 

"Go!" The Doctor unfolded himself and they both scrambled out of the slow moving funicular, safely alighting onto the access platform. 

"Mumsy, those weird people just got out of the fin-un-queue-lor," squealed the blue boy who had been peeking at them over his seat. The tram continued its ascent into the darkness. 

The Doctor tried the door, but finding it locked, pulled out his sonic. "Who locks an emergency exit door?" he whinged as he pulled out his sonic. 

"Not so handy in an emergency, yeah?" Rose asked, tamping down her confusion at his mixed signals. 

He turned over his shoulder and smiled, wagging his eyebrows as he finished his work with the sonic. They pushed through the door and found themselves in the palace kitchen. 

"Eeek!" a mousy-looking woman dropped a tray of pastries, ran to the wall, and slammed her hand against a large mauve button. 

"Hello, no need to panic. I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose."

"Hello," Rose waved in her usual friendly way.

"Don't you move!" A large man who appeared to be the head chef waved a rather vicious looking knife in their direction, his voice quivering with fear. 

It wasn't long before the sound of slapping boot soles against stone echoed from the direction of the hallway, followed by a group of palace guards storming in. 

"All staff out!" the most-decorated of the men barked. "You two. Hands up!" 

Rose and the Doctor complied. Rose pinched her lips trying to stifle a smirk as the lavender-hued man, a full head shorter than her, kept his piercing purple eyes trained on her as if she were the most notorious assassin. 

"Don't usually get much excitement in the palace kitchen do you? Glad we could brighten your day," the Doctor said cheekily to the chef, who was peeking around the corner from the hallway. He pulled his head back like a child who'd been caught spying on his parents. 

"I said keep quiet," the guard hissed. 

"No you didn't. You said, ‘You two. Hands up.' You did not say, keep quiet. You really should be more specific when you give your commands, uh," he said, looking at his gold embroidered name badge, "Sergeant Bilko. Most people are pretty literal. Not much room for nuance at a time like this." 

"Then I'm telling you now. Shut it!" 

"Queen Jovankeva Isabella Hortensia Telmandia Fifth Regent of the Mighty Dynasty of Haass has entered the royal kitchen! Honor your Queen!" announced a herald in midnight blue breaches and a short waisted coat. The guards snapped to attention as a young woman swept into the room, her frothy frock rustling with every movement. 

Rose was immediately taken aback at the sight of her. Nothing about her proclaimed royalty. She had the appearance of someone who was no older than 25, though it was difficult to know her age, given the difference in lifespan between humans and Barcelonans. She was taller than the average Barcelonan, being the same height as herself. Her golden-toned skin subtly glowed — pearlescent, though Rose couldn't discern if it was expertly applied makeup or her natural coloring. Her hair complimented her skin tone, and was like spun gold. It was casually arranged in two loose plaits which reached her waist. 

She wore a pink pinafore similar to those worn by other Sveldilusian women, though the embroidery was much finer and more youthful with its swirling, abstract pattern, rather than the formal floral designs favored by the majority of the female population. Her underdress was also much shorter than any other Rose had seen, barely skimming her knees. The shortness of the skirt showed off her well-toned golden legs which were covered with sheer pink knee-high stockings. Flirty pink bows adorned the cuffs of her hosiery. Her almost-naughty Swiss Alpine milkmaid look was completed by pink jewel encrusted Mary-Jane style wedges that sparkled in the bright artificial light of the kitchen. 

"It is really you, isn't it? I just knew you would come back to us someday," she gushed as she lunged forward to take both of his hands into hers. "I knew you were handsome from the descriptions in our history books. But I never would have guessed you would be _so_ handsome."

The Doctor turned to Rose. "She thinks I'm handsome!" he gushed.

Rose lifted an eyebrow and quietly sighed.

So when do we get to meet your Super Dog?" he asked.

"Super Dog? I'm not sure what you mean, Doctor."

"The Doggie Ambassadors! The famous noseless dogs of Barcelona!"

She tittered a laugh. "A fitting moniker Doctor, but don't ever let them hear you refer to them in such a fashion. They would be supremely offended. "Krum, fetch Lady Ophelia from the…” She halted. “Fetch Lady Ophelia."

Krum, the Queen's personal secretary, nodded discreetly and took her leave. 

"Why didn't you just ask your dog to join you? Aren't all ambassadors telepathically paired with their bipeds?" asked the Doctor. 

The Queen straightened her back and put on a cold face. "I find it unbecoming as Queen to be linked to a dog. I find their thoughts to be disturbing and base." 

"Don't you find it difficult to rule a society whose very foundations are built upon the relationship between the Ambassadors and their bi-peds?" 

"I am a forward thinking monarch, Doctor. The old ways are stale, and it is time for us to move on." 

"Some of the best things are the oldest ones, y'know," Rose chimed in, glancing over at the Doctor. He smiled and blushed a bit at her remark. 

"And who is this woman? Your hired _inamorata?_ " She never removed her eyes from the Doctor's face. 

"I'm Rose Tyler, and I'm no immotaroro, whatever that is, thanks. I'm his–"

"She is my plus one," interrupted the Doctor, protectively wrapping his arm around her. 

"Well I don't know what that is supposed to mean." She said with a guffaw. "Rose Tyler. Hmm. Interesting name. Her parents named her after a flower. How quaint. Are her people in the trades? We certainly could always use more roofing tilers here in Svaldalusia given our odd, old fashioned fixation on tiled roofs. I will have someone direct her to the immigration office on the way out so she can pick up an application for a work permit." 

"Wha'?" Rose squinted. 

"Your Majesty, we hear that your dogs are disappearing, and we are here to help," said the Doctor in an attempt to change the subject. 

"Oh don't use that ridiculous title, please. Call me Keevie. All of my closest friends do," she said, with renewed and thickly-laid charm in her voice. 

"All right then, Keevie," the Doctor said, directing his own charm right back her way. 

The Queen took a step closer to the Doctor and laid her well-manicured hand on his forearm. "I just know you'll be able to help us. Our poor pooches have been disappearing for years now, and no one seems to know why or how they are disappearing or by whom they have been snatched." 

"Why doesn't she do that royal talking thing like Miss Minchin?" Rose asked the Doctor, whispering to the side. 

The Queen cleared her throat. "It is very impolite of the young lady to refer to me indirectly. She should speak to me directly if she must speak at all." 

"Pot calling kettle," she muttered and then found her voice. "Hold on. Young lady? Really? I am not some little school girl in plaits, your Majesty," challenged Rose. 

"It doesn't surprise me that you aren't his hired lover now that I hear you speak. Far too rough and crude to appeal to a man of your standing, Doctor." She looked at Rose disdainfully. "Are you his ward, dear?" 

Rose smirked and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off. 

"Or perhaps he took pity on you after your family disowned you for notorious behavior? Or was your family struggling financially? Maybe you were making a little bit of money on the side? Your figure is pretty enough, I suppose, and most men aren't hiring a whore to speak now, are they? So the Doctor took pity on you and rescued you from your poor, miserable life." 

"Did you just call me a-" Rose drew in a deep breath and looked to the Doctor, searching his eyes for support. _At least that tree woman Jabe wasn't cruel,_ she thought. 

"Doctor, what is this person exactly? She is neither your harlot nor your ward. And she most certainly couldn't possibly be your wife, that would be positively ridiculous. Come now, amuse me with her story. I do believe it must be very interesting indeed," she said with a wicked grin. 

"Queen Jovankeva Isabella Hortensia Telmandia, Rose Tyler is most certainly not a _what_." He advanced on the Queen until she took a step back. "I am her slave, and she is my sovereign, and in my eyes, she can do no ill. Rose Tyler is my savior, my best friend, my forever. And if she would ever consent to have me, I am hers for the taking, all she has to do is speak." The Doctor stepped back, turned to Rose and took both of her hands into his. He slowly drew her hands to his lips, and tenderly kissed her knuckles. 

The Queen blanched and cleared her throat. "Well. Right. Let's have lunch. We can," she cleared her throat once again, "discuss a plan of action to secure the safety of our —“ she paused, and spoke the next words as if she hated them, "beloved four legged ambassadors." 

"Lunch sounds lovely, doesn't it Rose?" 

Rose swallowed hard, crossed her arms, gritted her teeth and nodded, turning her head slowly to survey the room. She flushed as she saw that every eye in the room was on her. The queen turned on her heel and left without another word, her guard and herald trailing behind, leaving Rose and the Doctor alone in the kitchen. 

"No one talks about you that way. Not even the Shadow Architect herself would dare-" 

Rose's felt both anger and warmth. "Doctor, I'm so–" 

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I overstep my bounds? Am I moving too fast? This being our first date and all, well, adventurey datey date. I didn't mean to — Oh I did, didn't I? That's me always running off my gob. I do have a gob don't I? Fantastic gob, though, you have to admit. Gets us out of all kinds of bad situations. I believe we are expected at lunch. Shall we?" 

As they left the kitchen, the formerly quavering chef nodded sympathetically at Rose, and patted the Doctor on the arm in a show of manly solidarity. The Doctor drew himself up and smiled proudly. 

They were met by an aide who led them into a small, intimate dining room. An elegant, elderly woman sat in a wheelchair at the far end of the table, and an exceedingly handsome man was seated next to her. His skin was golden brown, and his glistening brunette hair was styled in a remarkably similar way as the Doctor's, but far more extreme on the top.

"Sorrowful art I, for to rise and honor thou I cannot. To this cursed chair am I bound." The elderly woman bowed her head to the Doctor. 

"In the stead of my mother do I humbly offer you the thanks of our grateful people." The tawny skinned gentleman bowed to the Doctor. 

"Well, thank you for that, but don't do that bowing... thing," the Doctor said with a frown and a few quick waves of his hand.

"Understand doth I, with formalities uncomfortable it appearest thou art," the Queen Mother said with felicity. 

"Oh Mother, stop with that formal speaking rubbish. I have told you that no one wants to hear it anymore," said Queen Jovankeva said unkindly. 

"Jovankeva, you are being disrespectful to you mother," said the gentleman. 

"I am the Queen. She is not. And you are the _Prince_ , not the sovereign, and I have ordered her to refrain from using that ridiculous archaic dialect. I don't want to have to work to follow a conversation." 

"Hello, you must be Prince Ferdin Davin Rhodhall Glenshaw of Svaldalusia. See Rose? I paid attention to the tour guide! I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler." 

Prince Ferdin approached Rose, took her hand and bowed. "I am honored by your presence, Rose Tyler." 

Queen Jovankeva cleared her throat. "Ferdie, our luncheon is molding. Save your seduction for later." 

"Pay no attention to my sister, Miss Tyler. She has no respect for the old ways. Gallantry is lost on her." He released her hand with a smile and turned to the Doctor. 

Rose pinched her lips to stifle her laughter. The Doctor sat down, but frowned a bit when he saw the Prince politely withdraw Rose's chair from the table. "Thanks, your Highness," she said, smiling up over her shoulder as he eased the chair closer to the table. 

"Queen Keevie, you promised we would get to meet your ambassador, Lady Ophelia." The Doctor grinned charmingly. 

"So Jo has asked you to call her Keevie, eh? Better watch your back Doctor. It's almost certain that she either needs something from you, or simply _wants_ you," Prince Ferdin said cooly as he took a sip of his wine. 

"Ferdin, remember of whom you speak," she said with an edge in her voice that could cut through metal.

She returned her attention to the Doctor. "Krum, my private secretary, has informed me that the Ambassador is resting and has asked not to be disturbed. Come to my apartments this evening. My dog is more of a night creature. You may meet her then. And I am sure that my brother would be more than happy to entertain Miss Tyler in your stead, wouldn't you, Ferdie? 

"I have plans this evening," replied the Prince. 

"Oh, that is too bad isn't it? It would be a shame if the lovely Miss Tyler were to be left all on her own. Oh, I know! Why don't I arrange for her to be entertained by the Royal Guard! I am sure they would love the opportunity to show her a fun time." The queen winked at Rose. "They are so very lonely without female companionship. They work such _long_ hours. They could use a bit of leave."

The Doctor reached for Rose's hand and squeezed it while the Prince stiffened in his chair and set his jaw. "I would be more than happy to rearrange my schedule, Sister." He breathed in deeply and turned to face Rose. "Miss Tyler, would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner in my apartments this evening?" 

Rose looked to the Doctor, but he remained silent as he stared at the Queen with dark eyes. 

"Doctor? Our plans?" Rose asked quietly.

"Go with the Prince, Rose," he answered firmly, continuing his examination of Queen Jovankeva. 

The remainder of the lunch was awkward. The Queen Mother drifted to sleep in her wheelchair. Queen Jovankeva continued her flirtations with the Doctor. Prince Ferdin ate silently. And all of the Doctor's attempts to turn the conversation back to the dogs were frustrated time and again by the Queen. Rose and completely lost her appetite, and picked at her food. 

oOo 

"You just sat there and let that woman..." In frustration, Rose shouted at the Doctor as they walked down the hallway towards the quarters that had been provided for them. "I may not be a rocket scientist Doctor, but even I can tell that she was threatening to throw me to the wolves if her brother didn't agree to keep me out of the way tonight." Rose crossed her arms angrily. 

"I'm sorry about our date, Rose, but there is something definitely off," the Doctor interrupted. "Queen Jovankeva does not want us poking our noses around the noseless dogs, I am sure of it. You go with the Prince tonight and find out what you can, and I will deal with the Queen." 

Rose looked at him without speaking. 

"Rose, I'm really sorry how that woman treated you," he said with soft eyes. He drew her into a comforting hug. "She is one of the more unpleasant people I have met in my lives, and that is saying a lot."

"Nothing for you to be sorry for," she said into his shoulder, her anger having dissipated. "Can I take a raincheck on our date? Figuring this out is more important than us goin' out to dinner tonight." 

"Well, I did deliver on one promise," he said pulling back from their hug, and placing one hand on her cheek. 

"What's that?" she said, her heart beginning to flutter.

"I did deliver on the adventurey part of the date." His eyes were soft, and glued to hers. 

She smiled, and tipped her head into his hand, but before she knew what was happening, the Doctor's lips descended upon hers. The kiss could in no way have been considered chaste, anything but, in fact. This was a kiss that was a promise of more, a hint of bliss to come. And while the kiss the night before had been passionate and frankly fantastic, this one wholly eclipsed it. _This_ kiss had been instigated by the Doctor. Both of them were thinking straight -- no psychograft, and no alien aphrodisiac curry. And Rose was fully sure about who the Doctor was, unlike Christmas Eve, the night they had found each other, and she had learned of regeneration. 

And their bodies were responding in ways much more intense than any alien aphrodisiac curry could ever cause. 

His lips played across hers, as if he were memorizing them. Last night, she hadn't noticed the coolness of his tongue and lips, which heightened every sensation, similar to the way that a piece of ice drawn across the skin leaves it far more sensitive to touch. She quivered at the thought of his whole body blanketing hers in coolness; the two of them, hot and cold, joining to create a sensory explosion. 

His hands kneaded her low back and her scalp as one of hers slid into his hair and tugged at it. He pulled her even closer and their bodies molded together, fitting perfectly. Slowly, he reduced the intensity of his ravaging of her mouth, and then finally dropped a few soft-mouthed, lingering kisses to her lips before completely releasing her. 

He pulled back and looked at her with a wholly smug and sexy grin that left her breathless. "I did ask if I could kiss you, remember?" 

Rose nodded quickly as her chest heaved rapidly. She attempted to calm her fevered breathing as he released her from his embrace. 

With a self-satisfied smile on his lips and his hands deep in his pockets, he backed away and turned on his heel. "Have a good evening Rose Tyler. Think of me while you are with the Prince, and I'll see you tonight. I'm going to go explore. Talk to the guards perhaps. Maybe teach them a few lessons on how to treat a lady," he called without looking back. 

Rose's wanting, heated gaze followed him as he walked away with a spring in his step, and a whistle on his lips, leaving her way, _way_ beyond hot and bothered.


	7. Ch 6 - Does It Need Saying?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't just walk away after you do... _that!_

Up until two minutes ago, Rose Tyler would have said that last night's kiss had been the best of her life. But two minutes ago, a new standard had been set. The Doctor had taken her lips in an act that could only have been construed as nothing short of foreplay, a kiss that should have happened someplace very private. And he had set her body on fire from the roots of her hair to the tips of her just-this-side-of-painfully tingling toes. 

But what was the man responsible for that thermonuclear explosion with a side of Vesuvius and an End of the Earth chaser doing now? He was sauntering away like it had been nothing, leaving her body begging to continue, just side of undone. To add insult to injury, he was whistling _Stray Cat Strut_ as he strutted his tight little bum away. 

Rose found her voice. "Hold on! You can't just kiss me like _that_ and leave me like — like _THIS_! Who do you think you are?" she screeched as she strode towards him with a head full of steam. She halted abruptly, just out of his reach. 

He stopped his stroll, looked at her over his shoulder, waggled his eyebrows, and casually turned right back around. His whistling changed to words as he sang in a sultry, velvety baritone. "Stray cat strut, I'm a ladies' cat, a feline Casanova, hey man, that's where it's at..." He then resumed whistling the rockabilly-with-a-dash-of-punk tune that suited him oh, so well. 

Just as Rose had been surprised by the Doctor's sudden descent upon her lips, so too was the Doctor blindsided as the palm of Rose's hand met his cheek with a crack that nearly, though not quite, rivaled Jackie Tyler's masterful slap. 

"Whaddya do that for?” he wailed, his voice far more high pitched than becoming for a Time Lord. 

"You can't do this to me!" she bellowed.

"What? Kiss you? You gave me your consent, back on the funicular!" he replied, thoroughly confused. "I thought you wanted to be kissed, so I did a good job! I was showing you my talent! I don’t do things halfway, Rose Tyler.” 

“Oh! So you were just showing off? You _ascot_!" the TARDIS' profanity filter superseded her choice word. "I mean, of course I wanted you to kiss me! Have for ages. But you can't just kiss me like _that_ and walk away! This — on top of everything else — this is the final — Doctor — I'm — I'm — You — You right _mustard_!" She swore a second time, and was again censored, angering her further still. "Of course, the TARDIS is on _your_ side!" she shouted to the ceiling. "That's _frosted braunschweiger sausage_!" She grunted again, angrily, at the TARDIS' meddling. 

The Doctor’s mouth gaped, but then he plunged his hands in his pockets, and watched as his pink and yellow girl stormed away. 

The sound of Rose's quick, purposeful steps hitting the brightly tiled floors echoed up into the arched ceilings of the pillared portico. Her ears rang as angry blood circulated through her veins. She carried on, step after step. To the right, doors, corridors, porticoes, and stairwells passed by unnoticed. 

She purposefuly chose to not look to her left, instead, choosing to skirt along the right-hand side of the corridor. The castle was perched high on the side of a mountain, and while she was not afraid of heights, there was no safety wall to keep one from plunging to their death hundreds of feet below. 

Angrily she marched up and down stairs, through corridors, into the hanging garden, past the library, the swimming pavilion, and the grand ballroom. The sun began to set and the moon began to rise. She heard the first warning curfew drums beating in the distance, though the curfew was not enforced on the palace grounds. She had a blasting headache now so she stopped and asked for directions to her room. 

She could still feel the shameful sting in the palm of her right hand from the contact it had made with the Doctor's handsome face. 

"Just like Mum! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" she choked out through burning tears as she found the door to her guest room and lunged herself into the small, luxurious chamber. The only light came from a small fire that had been laid in the grate. The direct flame was obscured by a patterned screen, which scattered dimly dancing shadows throughout every surface of the room. 

"Asks me on a date. Throws a poem at me and expects me to swoon," she muttered to the darkness. "Worked of course. Didn't get the half of it, not that would I'd admit that to him," she laughed mirthlessly and then said with a sigh, "Got enough of it. And if he meant even half of it…”

She groaned in frustration as she picked at the knots in her trainer laces, but gave up and pulled them off, still tied. She threw them acros the room. Next, she peeled off her pink jacket, leaving one sleeve inside out, and tossed it aside. "What is he tryin' ta do ta me? Make me die of spontaneous combustion?" she whimpered. "Kisses me like — _that_ and — and — swans off like it never even happened. Singin' that song, like I'm some conquest." 

Emotionally fatigued, she dropped herself onto the bed and then fell backwards against the jewel-toned silk bolsters. She rubbed her eyes with the balls of her hands and then looked up at the exquisite canopy above through bleary, tear-weary eyes. She turned over onto her side and curled into a ball. "But I love him so much,” she spoke into her arms. 

"I know you do."

Rose startled at the sound of _his_ voice, and fell off of the side of the petite bed, landing with a thud on the floor. The Doctor stepped out of the shadows, and extended his hand to help her up. Grimly, she accepted it, allowing herself to be drawn up to her feet. 

"Whattya doin' here? Thought you'd be with Queenie by now," she said uncharitably trying to deflect his intense examination of her face. She was looking anywhere but at him, shielding herself with her crossed arms. 

"I'm sort of avoiding her, actually," he said, tugging his ear, "but I really don't think that beast of a woman is what is bothering you, now is it?" 

Rose finally let her eyes rest on his. She drew breath in and out. "Who am I to you, Doctor? I mean really. What do I mean to you? Are we best friends? Are we more than that? Or am I just entertainment? Look at the cute trick ape, good for a laugh," she said with a forcefulness she regretted, as now her head throbbed even more.

The Doctor gently grasped her by the upper arms and leaned over so that she was forced to look right into his eyes. He saw sadness, confusion, and frustration from the depths of her soul reflected in them. 

He drew in a deep breath. "Does it need saying?" 

"What?"

"Rose, certainly you _know_ how I feel about you."

"Does it need saying?" She repeated his question, but he didn’t answer. "You're kidding me, right? Is your species so different? That's it, isn't it? Time Lords aren't allowed to fall in love? Or is loving someone really and truly something you've told yourself you can't have, because you are trying to pay some penance for the Time War?" She gasped and threw her hands to her mouth, immediately regretting what she had said. 

"No," he said quietly. "Not penance. But Rose, you are right about my people. They didn't fall in love, not like you do anyway. Although, can't say I ever did anything their way," he chuckled quietly. 

Her lower lip quivered and her shoulders became rigid. "I'm so sorry, Doctor. I never meant to say that, but I guess I was wrong all the same 'bout how I thought you felt about me, how I thought we meant something more to each other than just friends.” 

"Rose, I can see that you're tired. And your headache is back, right?" 

She nodded. 

"I'm not trying to put off this conversation, but you really need to take a rest. Nothing good can come of a conversation when you are this tired. It's been a long, harrowing day. Well, long harrowing two days really. Here." He pulled out that same jar of paracetamol he'd offered her this morning, but this time she waved it off. 

He guided her back to the small bed and drew the covers back. Within moments, she was asleep, thanks to some surreptitious use of setting 972-1, which resonated all of the metal in the room to give off of sound-waves conducive to human sleep. 

The Doctor pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat down, pondering just how it had come to this. 

oOo 

_“Is it bedtime already? I lose all sense of time in this little blonde head of yours. Oh, not quite. It is barely cocktail hour! But you're in bed awfully early, you little minx. So where is he? Oh. You're alone. Aren't you supposed to be with the Doctor? Didn't he promise you some sort of ridiculous date? How juvenile. A date. Seriously, Rose. A man of his age suggesting a something so silly as a date. But since you are here, why don't we have a little chat?”_

oOo 

The Doctor leaned forward over Rose's face and studied her pained facial contortions. The movement under her eyelids indicated her mind was racing. He counted and calculated the ratio of lid flutters to eye rotations, darts, and rolls. Out came his sonic, and he waved it over Rose's forehead for a more accurate reading of her brainwave patterns. 

The Doctor jumped as Rose began to speak in a quiet, posh voice. The expression on her face changed. It was cold and full of disdain.

oOo 

_"You are just a game to him, Rose Tyler, an amusement," she cooed in the voice that was not quite her own._

oOo

"What the howling going on inside of that pretty head of yours?" asked Doctor as the sonic whirred and whistled ominously. 

"I don't believe you! I won't! Why won't you go away? Leave me alone!" Rose whimpered, her facial expression changed, and her voice once again her own. 

"He has traded up. A cheap chav like you could never compete with a queen, Blondie, so don't even try." This time, Rose spoke in a voice not her own, but one that was vaguely familiar and taunting. 

"We're savin' the dogs,” replied Rose, her own voice quietly breaking.

"An appropriate task for the bitch who tried to assassinate me," the not-quite-Rose voice uttered cruelly. 

This time, the TARDIS didn’t filter the nasty word. 

"Cassandra," he said through gritted teeth as he raked his hand down his face. "Psychic remnant." Without hesitation, the Doctor licked her cheek, and then quickly smacked his tongue a few times. 

Rose stirred, and her eyes sprang open. "Did you just lick me?" 

"Rose, there's a problem. A very big and enormous problem and I need to go into your mind immediately and do emergency telepathic surgery. It won't hurt a bit. Can be rather pleasant even. Should have done it sooner, but I know how you are about this sort of thing, meddling in your mind, though I don't know why, because I am a gentleman and I won't look anyplace you don't want me looking." 

"Yeah, and gentlemen don't lick people while they're sleeping," she replied as she tried to digest the waterfall of words which had just cascaded from the Doctor's mouth. She put her hands over her puffy eyes and rubbed. "But what do you mean? Telepathic surgery? Go into my head? Why do you need to do that? What's the problem?" Rose asked nervously. 

"Tch, tch, tch!" he quieted her, putting on his glasses. "I'm a hypothesis to explain your odd behavior." 

"My odd behavior?" she found her angry voice once again. "How am _I_ actin' odd? You are the one who's been off your nut!" 

"What do you remember about your recent dreams?" he asked, ignoring the accusation, still waving the sonic around her head. 

"My dreams are none of your business," Rose replied angrily. But then she saw his worried, earnest face. "Sorry. I haven't been dreaming," she answered, kinder this time, "which is strange, because I always remember my dreams. Keep a dream journal back on the TARDIS even." She looked down and smiled a bit. "I use the book you gave me for Christmas." 

He smiled back at her and took her hand, rubbing a circle with this thumb. The effect was immediately calming. 

"Has Cassandra been speaking with you? Communicating with you somehow?" 

"No. How could she? She's gone. She died." She paused. "She did die, right?" she asked, a hint of fear in her voice. "We both saw it happen."

The Doctor fiddled with the sonic for a moment until Rose heard a recording of her own voice speaking words she did not remember. 

"But I didn't say those things. And that sounds like _her_." Rose gasped. 

"I believe that Cassandra has left a remnant of her essence. A psychic echo." 

"What's a psychic echo? I thought that she was gone." Rose got off of the bed and began to pace. "You're scaring me, Doctor." 

The Doctor followed her and pulled her into his arms. "We'll sort it, don't worry, Rose. There's a reason psychografting is forbidden in the majority of systems. Very dangerous technology. I was sure I removed all of the residual energy! She must have had a very strong mind indeed. Must have consider how long she lived. Surgery to surgery. Or she hated us very much Rose." 

"Yeah, hated I'd say,” she said into his shoulder.

"When did you start doubting me, Rose?"

"Doubting you? What do you mean? I don't doubt you. I trust you more than I trust anyone." 

"That's not what I've been seeing." He drew in a deep breath and changed the direction of the conversation. "Have I been sending mixed signals about how I feel about you?" 

Rose paused. "Yeah, you have. But aren't most blokes masters of that art? Don't really think it is a Time Lord thing. I'm sorry about what I said earlier. I was totally and completely unfair. But you, Mister," she poked his chest with a fingertip, "you can't just go and give a kiss like that and walk away! It is just mean!" she half laughed. 

"Not so bad yourself, Rose Tyler." He said her name in that new and delicious brown pinstriped way, accompanied by his particular smile, the combination of which did things to her. "You have very... talented... lips. But back to the Cassandra nastiness, I need to eradicate the echo as soon as possible. It is changing your personal–" 

"That! That right there! You just did it again! You say something totally and completely _dripping with sex_ and then just zoom right on by, like you never even said it at all." 

"I did? What did I say? Honestly Rose, I have so much going on in my head-" 

"You goin' on, talking about that fantastic and completely knicker melting kiss and then you launch right into Cassandra and my brain and-" 

"Knicker-melting, eh?" He made a happy sound in his throat as Rose looked away, blushing. "It was brilliant," he said throatily with a lusty smile. "So, what do you say? Why don't you come over to the bed, lay back and, we can explore this further, hmm?" 

"R–really?" Rose stuttered, and then smiled and bit her lip, full of hopeful expectation as he led her to the bed.

"Mmm hmm," he said. He put a knee on the bed and hovered over her. His lips were full and relaxed as he looked into her eyes. In anticipation he licked his lips, looked down to hers and then gently cupped her face. 

Rose closed her eyes and sighed, relaxing her mouth, readying herself to once again feel his kiss. But instead of his lips upon hers, Rose felt his fingers trace her temples. An unusual pressure pushed into her mind. She brushed his hands aside, immediately breaking the connection. 

"Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" he asked, immediately concerned.

"I thought you were going to kiss me, not go into my bleedin' head!"

"But I just told you that was what I was going to do!" he explained, confused.

"No. You. Did. Not. You said you were going to kiss me. Explore this further, you said—“ 

"I was talking about going in your mind," he stated, face screwed to the side.

She sat up and pointed at him. "We were talking about — about kissing! You led me to the bed. You puckered! You looked at my lips! You even licked 'em! Those, Doctor," she emphasized, "are the things that a _normal person_ does when _a normal person_ about to kiss someone." 

"You're very observant, Rose Tyler," he flirted again. "And I am most certainly not a _normal_ person. I thought you found that exciting." He waggled his eyebrows.

She groaned nightily. "It's like your brain and mouth are this fancy race car goin' a million miles a minute and I am in the passenger seat, and you are takin' us somewhere fantastic, but I can't see the sights along the way 'cos you are going so fast. Does any of this make any sense to you?" 

"Rose, I _am_ driving the most amazingly sleek and sexy race car you can ever imagine. But I am going a quadrillion times faster than the fastest car you have ever seen, and yes, before you ask, quadrillion is a number. And the car isn't just traveling forwards either. I am driving it forwards, backwards, inwards, outwards, simultaneously while I am reading the map, which I then successfully refold correctly, all the while singing along to a song on the stereo, and not just any song, but an aria written by Giacomo Puccini's great great great great great great great great great grandson, Carlo for his undiscovered opera, Il Spazio Esterno, which I have translated into ancient Gallifreyan, but am singing in English so you can understand it," he took a deep breath and slowed down his hurried speech, "while holding your hand and contemplating why in the world I waited so long to kiss you in the first place." 

“Really? Rose asked, again softening. 

"Yep. Really. Having you with me, you keeping me company, that makes the mad journey that I am on so much better, Rose." He smiled widely. "I really don't want to be alone in my beautiful blue box ever again. I want you with me, for as long as--" He swallowed hard, and his breath hitched. "For as much time as we are given." 

"I want to be with you, too, Doctor. Only place I wanna be, in fact. The TARDIS is my home now. You know that, don't you?" 

"Now that's the Rose I know right there. That other Rose... the angry, accusing, slapping Rose? That's the odd behavior I am referring to. Take the curry incident for example." 

She groaned and fell back onto the pillows. 

"Rose, stop it," he said kindly, but commanding. "You have no reason to be ashamed. None. You know what it's like out here, different cultures and such, things happen. I think that you are far more bothered by it than you really should be." 

"It was bloody embarrassing. What if it had been you? Wouldn't you have been embarrassed?" 

"Depends upon who I was with," he waggled his eyebrows. 

She rolled her eyes. "Gimme me another example, 'cos that one's not fair. I don't think bein' embarrassed about that is odd behavior." 

"Right. Slapping me in the hallway for singing a song. The Rose I know wouldn't have done that. You would have sang along, made up your own verse even, flirted right back." 

"I didn't slap you 'cow you were singing. I slapped you because you walked away without any explanation."

Both were quiet.

"You slapped me," he said, so quietly, he was almost mouthing the words.

"Yeah,” she admitted. "But you shouldn't have walked away either.” 

"You're right. I shouldn't have. But you shouldn't have slapped me, either." 

"Stop. I'm sorry I slapped you. Let's just stop talking about the slap, all right?" She dropped her hands that she'd been holding up defensively. "I just felt this anger building up inside that I couldn't control. I suddenly had this horrible fear that you were gonna leave me, and well, off you went. I snapped. Same thing with the curry. When I was in the shower this mornin', I had this horrible feeling you were gonna leave me. Abandon me 'cos of what I did last night." 

"So you are afraid that I'm going to abandon you? When did these feelings start?" 

"Started after we left New Earth." 

He nodded. "I'm going to be very explicit in my request. No mixed signals." He put his hands up in emphasis. "Rose Tyler, may I have permission to look into your mind? Do you trust me to do that? I know you have been confused about my intentions towards you, but I don't believe for a minute that all of your confusion stems from your own doubts. I think that Cassandra's echo has planted these thoughts in your mind. All right?" 

Rose nodded and sniffed back fresh tears. 

"Whatever you believe, you must know that my hearts belong to you, Rose Tyler." He placed a finger under her chin and tipped it upwards, and then placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "They did when I wore black leather, and they do now. That will never change. Even if I have a gob that won't stop and very bad sense of romantic timing-" 

"What'd you say?" she asked in a whisper, as something let loose in her mind. Rose closed her eyes and tipped her head to the side as a hazy memory came to the fore. 

She was in her old room in the Estate. She wasn't sure what or when she was remembering, but it was sometime after her first Doctor had left her, and before she had found him again. This Doctor, the brown-suited Doctor, was whispering words into her ear. She couldn't discern what he was saying, but he was apologizing. The words were sweet and heartfelt, and her own heart warmed to his admissions. Then she heard her Mum talking with a woman in the other room. There was laughter. Whoever the woman was, she was happy. The voice was so familiar, but muffled, distorted, almost as if her mind was hiding the identity of the person. Cool, gentle, familiar lips placed a kiss on her forehead. And then in her memory, she heard her own voice speaking, eerie, echoing, a multitude of layers -- frighteningly powerful. But not quite her own voice. _"I will, my Doctor."_

And then the memory faded. 

Rose opened her eyes. The Doctor was staring at her, concerned. 

" _'My hearts belong to you,'_ " she quoted, voice low and thick. "You told me that once before. At Mum's. In my bedroom. How could I have forgotten that? I never would have forgotten that, because it is what I have been hoping to hear since I met you. And it was _before_. It was a memory from before I found you. A year after you left me at Mum's. How is that possible?" She searched his worried eyes. 

"Rose, your timeline just went all wobbly. It went back on itself and jumped ahead and-" He stopped himself and his face became firm. "I can't talk about it." He swallowed hard as he rushed the words. "I can't talk about it, and I won't, and that is that." He whipped off his glasses and stood up, moving to the window. He leaned heavily on the casement and looked out at the night sky. 

Rose got off of the bed and joined him by the window.

"Do it."

"Do what?"

"You know exactly what you need to do. Go in my head, like you said before." 

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea now." He whipped out his sonic and began waving it around her head. "I think I need to take a step back, run some tests back on the TARDIS, and process this information a little bit before I attempt to–" 

"Don't wanna wait," she interrupted.

"Rose, you don't understand! There are bigger things going on here now. It looks like a future me is involved and-" 

"Future you? Then you really have to get on with it, right? You could mess up your own timeline if you don't!" 

He opened his mouth to speak, but found that had no response. 

"I may not understand everything, but you know what I do know? I want to be myself again! I want... I want... I want to be an _us_! A proper you and me and maybe I'll be able to be a bit more patient with you kissing me one minute and talkin' about the stinky mud bogs on Bamoosh the next without Cassandra poking me in the brain!" 

"Barmoosh. Not Bamoosh. The mud bogs,” he deflected. 

Rose raised her eyebrows, showing her determination. 

"It's dangerous," he said seriously. 

"Since when isn't it dangerous?" She wedged herself between the Doctor and the window, so that they were facing each other. With a bit of hesitation, she placed her hands over his hearts and looked into his eyes. "I trust you, and I know you can fix this. If what you think is happening is what’s going on, I can't have that voice telling me those horrible things any more! Please. Do it." 

"Don't really have a choice, do I?" He sighed and then led her back to the bed. "All right then, don't want you to be uncomfortable," he said nervously. “So why don't you lie down, all right?" He looked at the chair, and then at the bed bed, hesitated for a moment, and then chose to stretch himself out next to her on the narrow bed. "I am going to put my hands on your temples and you will feel a bit of pressure as I enter your mind." 

"It won't hurt, right?" she asked as she nervously bit her lip. 

"If you don't fight it, it won't hurt a bit. If there is anything you don't want me to see, just imagine it behind a closed door." 

She nodded, knowing that there was not one thing that she wanted to hide from the man whose hearts she held, but she certainly hoped that he would stop hiding from her. 


	8. Ch 7 - Cassandra, Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My, what a big brain you have, Doctor!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PG-13 for double entendre, sensuality, and what some readers might consider a dub-con entrance into Rose's mind (I don't believe it is, but I want to be sensitive to others).
> 
> Additionally, in this story, Rose is a virgin. This isn't a random decision on my part, but very purposeful, as it will be a major plot point in the next story, "Found & Forgotten".

Side by side, face to face, and nearly heart to hearts, Rose Tyler and the Doctor lay on the almost-too-small-for-two bed in the fire-lit bed chamber. Shadow and light flitted and danced across the walls. Any last remnant of fear onto which Rose still held had finally been relinquished. As a tangible sign of her complete trust in the man who was about to know her with the utmost intimacy, she softly touched her lips to his. 

"I'm ready," Rose whispered as she slowly pulled away and rested her cheek on the single pillow that they shared. 

The Doctor nodded, and deliberately spread his long fingers over Rose's temples. He flexed his fingertips in microscopic increments until the positioning was to his satisfaction, and then closed his eyes. 

Rose first felt a gentle brushing against her consciousness and then a nudge. He halted at the entrance to her mind. 

“Knock knock,” he said cheekily.

"That's you then?"

“Yep. May I come in?" he said with a grin.

Rose squirmed a little bit, and tensed ever so slightly. 

"I promise, I will take it slow and steady. I thought it would be quick, Rose, I'm sorry, but I now see that this is going to have to take my time. And once I am inside, I will slowly and carefully examine you before I take any action." He reassured her, touching his nose to hers in a surprising intimate gesture. 

She shook her head affirmatively. "Do what you need to do. 'M not goin' anywhere," she laughed nervously. 

He smiled softly. "And here we go. I am pushing in just a teensy-weensy, itty-bitty bit, and now I'm stopping to see if you are all right." 

"'M fine," she replied, wincing a bit.

“No you’re not. You need to relax your mind, Rose. Breathe in and out slowly, and on your exhale, I’m going to start up again.”

He drew in a long breath, and she followed his example. Together, they exhaled, long and slow. 

“And… in. Bit by bit, a little more now. Too fast? Too slow? You tell me."

“It’s better now. Thanks.”

“We’re about nine percent there, give or take. Have a way to go.“

"Is it always like this? Slow? You weren't this careful with Horatio." 

"Horatio is a telepath." He waited a moment before he continued, measuring his words. "It's different with you. You aren't telepathic. This not going to be a quick peek around your mind. Remember, I’m looking for damage. Telepathic brain surgery.”

“What?” She trembled, erecting a wall.

“Oh! No! Nononono!” he backpedaled, trying to lighten the mood. “Bad example. Very bad example. Forget I said that.” He soothed her mind, the equivalent of stroking her hair and rubbing soft circles on her back.

“But… I'm not quite sure what I'm going to find, to be honest. And three is another reason altogether." 

"What's that, Doctor?" 

"Hold on a tic, I've hit some sort of a resistance. Did you throw up another wall?”

“No…?”

“Errr, I think this might be…” He cleared his throat. “I think it’s a first time thing. Like I said, this isn’t a simple look-around.” 

Both of their faces flushed red, blushing at the comparison.

“Time to relax, Rose. Think… think of… Oh I know. Remember that ski lodge? The one with Jack and... nakedness?”

She laughed. "Wasn't there always nakedness with Jack? How could I forget? You land the TARDIS sideways on that steep roof, and then Jack climbs out of a window completely starkers. Some guy is hollering at him for stealing his goat. I was mad at him for a week 'cos I was just about to fall asleep in that amazing down featherbed." 

The Doctor continued to divert her attention as he mentally massaged the obstruction, preparing to move past. 

“Okay. Imagine yourself in that amazing bed. The crisp white sheets, the feathers surrounding you, the weightlessness of the duvet. Listen. Be still. Hear the quiet hiss of the snow falling outside of your open window. You are comfy and cozy. It’s so soft. Comforting. A crackling fire. You're drowsy. And warm." He stopped for a moment. "Maybe we should go back there? I could teach you to ski. I'm very good on a set of boards. Oh! Snowboarding! The luge? Bobsledding! Come back to the lodge sore and cold from a day out on the mountain. It'd be brilliant! Oh, I know! We could go during the 1976 Innsbruck Winter Olympics! Franz Klammer, Dorothy Hamill, Cold War hockey, spies. We could help some deserving athlete defect!”

She laughed. “An adventury-date then?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t be a Doctor-Rose date without the running. That reminds me. My trainers. I’m still wearing them. It’s rude to wear shoes in bed.” He toed them off. “Now go back to that big, fluffy, cozy, warm featherbed."

Rose drew in a deep breath, exhaled a sigh with a smile, mentally sinking into that bed, wrapped around the sleeping Doctor -- with nakedness -- and the barrier dissolved. 

The Doctor cleared his throat when he saw the image that Rose had conjured in her mind. "Cheeky." 

"Uh, I sort of forgot you could see that. Sorry." She rushed to change the subject. "Doctor, you were telling me why it's different with me,” she pressed, still curious. “What would it be like if you just wanted to take a look in some, I dunno, random person's head? You know, to find out where a bomb was or ask some bloke who'd memorized the plans to some dangerous alien power plant, or something?" Rose shifted a bit, feeling more at ease, still imagining herself in that feather bed, cuddled up with the Doctor. 

"Well," he continued, now well past the halfway mark, "I would put my fingers on the temples of that mad bomber or the nefarious power plant manager, and take a quick peek." 

"So why you bein' so slow and careful with me then? It's goin' good, right?" 

"I told you, Rose Tyler, because you," he breathed, "are you." He was truthful, but was afraid to divulge the entire truth: if he went in too quickly, he would lose his grasp on his already tenuous emotional control and overwhelm both himself and Rose with his desire and love for her. Something serious and rash might happen. _A permanent, irreversible something._

He focused again on the task. “How you feeling now? 79.343 percent.” 

“I feel good, Doctor. It’s nice. Warm and comforting. Not what I expected, that's for sure. I thought it’d be more electric-feeling or something, like being shocked, or maybe stabbed with a hot poker.” She smiled and bit her lip. “Feels sorta weird though." 

"Good weird or bad weird?" 

"Good...?" she said with a hint of self questioning in her voice. "It feels like you're stretchin’ me from the inside out.“ Rose flushed and looked up at the ceiling, embarrassed. “But good stretching, like the kind after a good workout,” she lied. 

“Well, that's exactly what I'm doing." The Doctor said and a wolfish grin slowly grew on his face, knowing that exercise had nothing to do with it. “You've never used these muscles before… to continue your analogy,” he said, playing along. “The first time isn’t easy, but it’s so, so worth it,” he teased. 

"Doctor, when was they last time you had to,” she bit her lip, "do it _slowly_ with someone?" 

"What makes you think I ever have had to _do it slowly_ to anyone else?" he replied with sensuality that caught him off guard. 

"I just... thought... oh." 

He smiled at the thought that perhaps she was beginning to understand, and that he wouldn't have to say anything further about it. "I told you Rose, you are you. There is no other you. Now. How are you faring? All right?" 

She smiled and sighed, "Oh! Feels so good, Doctor. Keep going." Rose sighed into the warmth of his mind filling hers and nestled closer into him. She could feel his warm, measured breaths on her face.

The Doctor matched her movement, and shifted closer as well. He felt more relaxed now, knowing that she wasn't feeling any discomfort. He allowed himself to sink a little further into the glorious feeling of being immersed in Rose's _being_. 

He continued to progress, slowly and steadily, deeper and deeper, filling her, massaging her mind, assuring her that she was safe. But the deeper he went, the more he progressed, closer and closer to filling her fully, the more difficult it was to restrain himself. He began to feel the primal _need_ to simply flood her mind with himself, to finish the process in one hard, fast thrust of his mind. No. It was more than that. He didn’t want to ever leave. 

"93.4 percent," he reported, his voice straining. 

"You all right, Doctor? You're shaking!"

"Takes some effort to keep going..." he breathed in through his nose, lips clamped tightly shut, "this slow." He was struggling to keep his thoughts in check now. 

Rose sighed as the sensations abruptly changed from pleasant to _pleasurable_. 

Her eyes snapped open. “Doctor should I be feelin' you _outside_ my head?" she asked. 

"Uh... Uh..." he stuttered. 

"Oh, Doctor..." she breathed.

"Rose..." He shuddered, bucking into her.

She moaned and threw her head back, arching into him.

Slowly, rhythmically, they began to rock their hips.

Her respiration increased. "Doctor!" she cried out again. The sensations surged, increasing in intensity. A steady pulse of heat from the Doctor's mind ignited every nerve in her body, shooting waves of pleasure low in her belly, moving down, down, down, lower, lower, lower.

She moaned again, her inhibitions crumbling as desire for her Doctor intensified quickly. 

“I'm... sorry, Rose," he faltered. “…that I’m doing this to you. I'm sorry..."

"No... No... don't be sorry for this. It feels gorgeous."

He lost a little more of his control as her hands started to roam down his back. And then she grasped his buttocks, and pulled him into her heat.

He was careening now, standing on the precipice of falling. The Doctor flipped her from her side to her back, and stretched his body over hers. “So, so close, Rose. Almost there. Almost there." He grunted. "Rose," he panted, "I don't know what’s going to happen next. This is," he panted, "proving to be more," he groaned, "intimate than I expected.”

Her breathing was raw and desperate as her need for his consciousness to completely fill her mind became so great that she knew there would be no possible way for him to leave now. A sound built deep in her throat, while inside her mind, her consciousness was surrounding his, squeezing it hard, seeking to pull him in completely.

And then, the final few bricks in the crumbling wall of control that had separated him from complete intimacy with Rose Tyler came crashing down.

His fingertips rubbed her temples in quick, hard circles. He growled quietly in her ear as he made the final few pushes into her mind... Just on the cusp. “Almost there! Almost!"

Rose wrapped her arms around his body, embracing him as close as she could as if this would help him push that last little bit of himself into her being. 

The Doctor’s fingers stilled, and he cupped her face with both hands, maintaining his mental contact with her mind. He stilled. And then with one final push, he was there. Fully.

Their pulsing need for physical fulfillment halted as if frozen in time, giving way to the feeling of complete bliss of being completely and wholly joined in her mind.

" _Doctor_." She breathed his name -- but not with her voice. She spoke to him mind to mind.

But then he started to shudder again. “I want... I want... I need you,” he panted, and his fingertips twitched. “I need _this_ with you. I need this with you _always_. I don’t know if I can leave now.” 

“You have me. I’m right here,” she replied, stroking his back, all the while doing the same with her mind. Comforting him, soothing him. ” _I’m not going anywhere. Stay as long as you’d like._ ”

“ _You don’t understand. I don’t want to leave. Never ever ever. You’ve captured me, Rose. Completely. I knew you would. And now I understand that I need of you. And I have needed you. Wanted everything with you. All along. I don’t know what I’d do if I were to be torn from you now.”_

“That’s because you love me, Doctor. And I love you,” she spoke.

“Rose Tyler.” 

Still shaking, he looked at her lips, and then her golden brown eyes. 

She blinked slowly. “Kiss me?”

He closed his eyes, lowered his head, and let his lips touch hers. Hesitant. Tentative. Feather light. A delicate touch of skin to skin, not even enough to let his lips feel the entirety of hers.

And then he kissed her again, lingering a little longer before pulling away. This time, he let his lips mold to hers, just for the briefest of moments. He hummed against her mouth, and then pulled back.

She smiled up at him, moved her hands to the back of his head. 

The third time, the Doctor let his mouth savor her plush lips. They melted together, gliding their lips, inclining their heads, moving to the slow and gentle music of their shared mind. 

And then she parted her lips slightly, and he dared to let his tongue touch hers. Tender, slow sliding and gliding soon escalated into something more intense. She kissed his upper lip, and then his lower. He sucked her lower lip into his mouth, and then laved his tongue over hers. 

And then he prompted her to open fully. Their tongues danced and played, swirling, devouring, eyes squeezed shut, his hands grasping her head tightly, her grip on his hair almost painful.

Soft sounds of enjoyment became mmms and ohs, and then soon they were panting, his hard planes fitting perfectly against her soft curves, any space between the two of their bodies gone. They sucked and nipped and grabbed. He peppered kisses all over her face, ears, neck, and throat.

Even though his consciousness had fully entered her mind, she thought it felt heavier now, expanding even further, spreading into every hidden space. He mind pulsed, making her somehow want even more with him. Yes, she wanted him physically. But that had always been the case. This was a new kind of need. Something she had never felt. Something she didn't even know existed.

And then their emotions began to syncronize, their wants, needs, desires — they were of the same mind. They both wanted the same thing. To love and be loved by the other so wholly that… Rose had no more words to describe the perfection of the moment. 

"Oh Doctor! Why didn't you tell me it would be like this?" She squeezed her eyes shut, and panted rhythmically as the Doctor lavished her mind and body with his love for her.

“Rose, I told you that you were different. This, it's for you. Only for you. I should have known that going into your mind,” he sighed, “with platonic intent would be impossible.” He smiled again reveling in the warmth and love of her mind surrounding his. 

"I should have expected..." His fingers massaged her temples again, pulling a moan from her throat, "that it would escalate... beyond a simple telepathic procedure. Thought going..." he moaned, "slow would help, but... Rose, you... do things to me! I think about... you in ways that... that... I haven’t wanted to think about in a long, long, very, long time. Physical, mental, spiritual, _permanent_. It’s rare, but sometimes a Time Lord finds someone to love, to truly love, and they bond their minds together — a marriage of love, not social standing —” 

"Doctor?” 

"Anything, my brilliant Rose," the Doctor replied. He inclined his head to kiss her once again, his espresso brown eyes now nearly black with passion. 

"Doctor, it hurts." Rose turned her head away, avoiding his mouth. "It hurts, my head hurts,” she repeated, almost whimpering this time. 

“It shouldn’t hurt,” he said confused, pulling back. He immediately found full control upon feeling the excruciating pain in her mind. 

"Oh... No... Not... Not... Her! Stop it Cassandra! You are a liar and I... I don't believe you!" she shouted, her face mirroring the pain in her mind. Her eyes rolled back, and lids fluttered as her body began to stiffen. 

“No! No! No! No!" he spat the words. “Rose! Stay with me, don’t–“ He focused his mind on examining hers while she shuddered and writhed in his grasp. The Doctor's hands remained in contact as he felt her feelings of fear and distrust aimed directly at him. It was as if whatever had a hold on her mind knew that the jig was up, and wasn't going down without a fight. 

Rose pulled away with a scream, and jumped off of the bed, painfully severing their connection.

"Doctor, stop! Wait! I can't... I can't do this. I'm fine, really! I'm fine.” Her voice did not match her words. “Th-there is n-nothing wrong with me, see?” She forced a shaky smile. “Too much too soon. That’s what it is. Too much. Cassandra hasn’t been gone that long, right? It’s really only been a few days after all.” 

The Doctor sprang off of the bed, gritting through seering pain in his mind. He grasped her shoulders and looked into her eyes, but she refused to return his gaze, instead, darting her eyes and head to and fro, looking anywhere but at him. 

“I'm only now gettin' used to you changin' your face, that's all. That’s why I’ve b–been so silly, and thinkin’ you were gonna take me home. I miss your ears. That’s it, I’m missing your ears, and your blue eyes, and this you is too–you're too gorgeous and you’re kissin’ and acting like you want to have sex and–and–and doing things that he never would have and–” She was now shivering in fear as she backed herself against the wall, and pressed up against the cold grey stone. There was desperation in her eyes, like she was a trapped animal. "L-Let's just wait and s-see, like you said. Take a-a step back before– think about it first.” 

Without another word he trapped her, pressing his full weight against her. He placed his legs on each side of hers, holding her firmly against the wall. 

“Rose, I hope you will forgive me later for what I'm about to do," he said in a fury, "but I really don't have a choice. You going to be destroyed. I have to go back in. Fast. It’s going to hurt. You gave me permission before. I'll face the consequences later, but I am not going to lose you to this... thing!" He placed his hands on her temples and bowed his head in concentration. 

Rose slapped her arms against the stone wall and stood rigid, spread eagle. She squeaked a protest and her face froze in terror as the full mass of the Doctor's mind dove into hers all at once. 

The Doctor was welcomed by the echoing, disembodied voice of Cassandra O’Brien. 

“Hello Doctor. Did you miss me?” 

“You don’t belong here, Cassandra,” he hissed. “I forced you out, remember?” 

“Well obviously, Time Lord, you left part of me behind. You really should have been more thorough. That was awfully careless of you wasn’t it now? You’re losing your touch in your old age.” 

“Cassandra isn’t here. She’s dead. Why torture her? Why do you even care?”

“You think it isn’t me? Psychic echo? Ha! You aren’t so smart after all. I left an eensy weensy, teeny tiny, very angry bit of myself inside of your precious Rose. I want her to suffer. I want _you_ to live with the knowledge that you can never ever find happiness with your _precious girl_. That’s what you call her, isn’t it? I saw in your mind, remember? And hers. The two of you are soulmates, and I won’t let it happen.” 

“Cassandra!” The fire in his mind became an inferno. “You aren't real. This... thing... is simply a psychic remnant!" he reminded himself. 

“If I am simply a psychic remnant, why are you even bothering to talk to me? Why don't you just get it over with already? Rid your precious girl of the silly nuisance. Or... are you too distracted by your foolish and fruitless desire for this human? She won't be with you forever. You will have, maybe what? Twenty more years at the most before she starts to show her age? Slow down? Can't run anymore? And then, maybe forty years after that if you are really, really lucky. Not to mention the whole aging part, and believe me, I know. Aging is a bitch. Plus all of those alien diseases you will expose her to, and dangers and all sorts of nuisances that could rip her from you. Just take her home and be done with her. Move on. Go find another human who won’t fall in love with you. No, better yet, go back to being a hermit, that way no one can hurt your cold, controlled hearts..." 

“Goodbye Cassandra.” And with that, he focused every single atom of his being, and the full fury of the Time Lord Victorious was unleashed. The fire burned away Cassandra O'Brien, incinerating every last stronghold and vestige of the angry, insidious, hateful, and selfish entity. The mental equivalent of black silk and Chanel No. 5 evaporated in the space of a nanosecond. 

Rose's arms fell to her sides, and she collapsed against the Time Lord's shoulder. He kept his hands in place, pressing her firmly against the wall keeping her from falling. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held onto him for dear life as he healed her mind from the fire he’d unleashed. No longer raging, his consciousness had now become a comforting salve soothing and smoothing away the scarring that was the only evidence left of her encounter with Cassandra. Section by section, with methodical precision, he repaired the damage. As her mind healed, healthy synapses and connections were restored. 

But as the he continued his work, something that had been lying dormant in Rose Tyler awoke. It had been waiting for the mental touch of her Time Lord. The familiar song of time was released, finally free to fulfill what had been written for Rose's timeline. It swirled and glowed, sparkled and shimmered, and reverberated throughout Rose's being. The knowledge of what had been done for them by his TARDIS was revealed. 

Not only did the TARDIS bring Rose back from the clutches of death on the day of his regeneration, the TARDIS had recreated her mind, changed it to accommodate his. Why hadn’t he recognized it before? He should have noticed it the moment he dipped the smallest portion of his consciousness into hers. She was completely unaware, but Time had woven itself into the very core of her being. 

And if that weren't enough, something else was revealed. A seal on a previously hidden door began to glow, drawing him to examine it more closely. It was his name. His real name. What was it doing as a part of Rose's mind? He’d never told her his name! That could only happen if they’d— And then a glowing message appeared, written in his own native language. 

_Hello me. Oh don't be so surprised, Mr. Thickity Thick. It's time to stop ignoring this part of her timeline. You know what's coming next. Just get on with it, already. Bond with her already. And before you try and open this door, don't. Her lost memories are in here, and she can't see them until the time is right. It's time locked anyway, and you know what a bugger those are to try and break. Besides, imagine her face when she remembers on her own. It will be worth it. I promise. And oh yeah. You owe Jack an apology. And duck when he comes at you._

“What? What?!” he exclaimed out loud and pulled away, falling on his backside. He stared up at his Rose in both awe and fear. He almost could not comprehend the sheer beauty and elegance of his Rose, her beautiful mind, and what the changes and the message meant for both of them. 

Silent tears streamed down her face and she fell to her knees. She buried her face into her hands as she rocked herself. "No... No... He can't feel like this... Not him... Not my Doctor...” she cried, nearly incoherent. 

"Oh Rose, I am so sorry. I had to, I didn't mean to hurt you--"

Rose continued to rock and rolled over onto her side. "So alone. I'm so lonely..." 

The Doctor snapped out of his shock and dropped to his knees, crushing her in his embrace. 

Without a word, Rose wrenched herself from his arms. He watched in fear as an unreadable look in her eyes, but then she grabbed his hands and firmly placed them to her forehead. “Doctor, my Doctor, let me help you!” Her voice broke as she pleaded with her eyes. “You’ve been alone too long, and I won’t let you be alone anymore my Doctor. Please, let me help you.” 

The Doctor could barely comprehend her desperation, until it finally came to him. His Rose, his beautiful compassionate Rose wasn’t suffering from shock or agony from his mind merging with hers to erase Cassandra’s remnant. She was feeling the _absence_ of his mind in hers. She was empathizing with him. Consoling him. Saving him once again. 

As a man dying of thirst in an arid desert runs toward an oasis, he ran to her, to her mind, and all she was. He dove into her, this time blanketing her in warmth and thankfulness. She welcomed him with openness and love. 

But then she attempted entry into his mind. “Let me in?” she asked, almost begging.

“I don’t know if you can,” he answered quietly. “I don’t know how much your mind can handle.” 

Her mind pushed outward, expanding, seeking entry into his, desperate to assuage his pain, but she found his door closed. 

"Why would you ever want to come into my mind Rose? I don’t want you to see what’s there. I’ve seen terrible things, done things that... Oh Rose, the horrors, the rage... You are beautiful and soft and tender, filled with such light an innocence, such... love. But in my head? It's a dark landscape filled with blood, dying worlds, destruction and... and an infinity of terrible, terrible things. I’ve lived so long, and done so much... please... don’t,” he pleaded. “It’s angry and ugly and... so, so old. Please don't," he pleaded, desperate to protect her. 

"I want to know you Doctor, all of you. Even the ugliness, and I'm not so naive as to think you haven't done nothin’ bad, Doctor, or seen the most terrifying and awful things... things I can't even imagine, but it's time you shared them with someone. I can't take the pain away, but can I help you carry it? Haven’t I already done that for you? Why can’t I help you this way too? 

“Remember how you were when we first met? You were angry, and closed, and... and then we made each other better, didn’t we? I helped you, and you helped me. Doctor, remember? It’s better with two. Always better with two. And who's to say I can't handle it? The TARDIS seemed to think I was capable of more. She merged with me, gave me a part of herself so that I could save you. Maybe she was part of what brought me back to life Doctor. I’m more now. I can do so much more. I don’t get injured quite so easily and I heal quick, I was the one who grew your hand back, even when I didn't know who you were!" 

“Rose, you don’t understand. It's been so long... I don't know how I will react. I am afraid that I won't be able to control myself! What if I am so overwhelmed that I--" 

Rose pressed her forehead to his. His hands were still in place, though were now shaking nervously. 

"Isn't the risk worth it? Taking this chance? Even if it is just for a moment. Doctor, think how it will feel to no longer be alone." She paused, and a thought occurred to her. “You want to protect me, yeah? Put anything behind a door that ya’ don't want me to see.” 

He gave his reply by opening his mental door. Rose waited for his implicit permission, waited for his lead, not wanting to pressure him further. The Doctor finally opened his mind, and pulled her, guiding her slowly. 

_"Doctor, it's so beautiful in here. I feel like I’m standin’ in the doorway of the TARDIS, starin’ out at the creation of a star or a whole galaxy even. Don’t you dare say it’s ugly in here. I see the mind of someone who wants to see it all, do everything. The adventure, and excitement. Your mind? It’s as beautiful on the inside as I have always seen you on the outside.”_ She continued to bask in the glow and beauty of his mind. She saw the blur of millions of memories, good and bad. Comparatively very few memories included her, though these were prominently placed. 

_“I’ve lived so long and done some much. Compared to the length of my life, I’ve only known you for the briefest of moments, Rose.”_ The Doctor broke her reverie, recognizing that she was seeing herself as a mere wisp in time. 

_“I know I can't begin to understand the bigness of your life, Doctor,”_ she said, her voice full of awe, and not in the least bit upset. 

_"That's one word for it. Big,”_ he said sheepishly. 

_"Well it is,"_ she sputtered through laughter. _"And you've been lyin' about your age, too, Mister.”_

_“Well, it’s easy to lose track!”_ he defended, playfully. 

_"Don't worry, it'll be our little secret,”_ Rose responded, grinning. 

She probed further, and a door swung open. She peered in. _“Oh Doctor! You had such a lonely childhood."_ She said it with compassion as she mentally hugged him. 

_"Uh, you weren't supposed to see that."_

Another closed door popped open, and the Doctor quickly snapped it shut. More and more doors opened, and he scrambled to close them, worried at what horrors Rose may find. _"I'm a bit rusty, haven't had someone in my mind for a while. Bear with me while I try and regain control.”_

 _“I’m not afraid of what I’ll see, if that’s what you’re worried about,”_ she said confidently. 

_“You should be.”_

_“Well maybe I should be, but I’m not.”_ She was defiant.

 _“See, the thing is Rose, I'm not ready for you to see everything,"_ he explained. 

_“It’s all right, Doctor,”_ she replied. _“I respect that. But someday, yeah? A bit at a time maybe? Don’t have to be all at once, you know. But for now I'm going to do what I can to take away your loneliness, all right?”_ Without waiting for his answer, Rose's mind sought out, surged into and filled any lonely place that she could find. 

_"What... What are you doing? Rose, it's too much. Uh, can you pull back a bit... I'm... I'm not used to this. Oh! Oh! Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! Don’t stop! Don’t stop.“_

As she released her mind fully into his, he threw back his head and let the warmth of her mind wash away the cold loneliness he had felt for so long. 

She smiled and laughed joyfully as the Doctor relinquished the tight control he had held and released the strict rules he had imposed upon himself to emotionally feel, and even physically express to her what was in his hearts. 

For the first time, without guilt, he knew he would be able to tell Rose Tyler just how much he loved her. He knew he could no longer hold back, no longer hide his love behind flirtatious glances and confusing words filled with double meaning, spoken in sincerity one minute, only to be pretended were never voiced the next. He would no longer be an enigma to her, so in a bold move, he surged back into her mind. 

Rose shuddered as the Doctor once again entered her mind. But this time, he slipped right in. No barriers. No hesitation. No fear. No straining for control. 

He caressed not only her mind, but her very soul, as his walls of hesitation and fear fell without a fight in the aftermath of the overwhelming intimacy with another mind, especially one offering such love and devotion. 

"You love me so much, I didn't know!" she cried out as he finally revealed his hearts to her fully. At long last, Rose understood why he could never tell her the words that had seemed liked the most important thing in the world for her to hear. Now she understood that what he felt for her, it was in his very essence and being. He couldn't tell her the words, because they were wholly inadequate. And she knew now. She understood. The words were beautiful, but this was _perfection._ He’d had to show her. She had to experience them directly from his mind. Those three little words were truly inadequate to express what he held for her in his hearts. He had shown her, to best of his ability, every single day they had been together. He showed her every time he took her hand, every star they gazed at together, every plate of chips they shared, each stolen glance, and silly joke... These had been his non-verbal hints of his love. But this, this was a full declaration. 

The warmth and love of Rose Tyler was everywhere within him. He could barely comprehend this type of unrestricted love. She lit the dark places in his mind that he shut tightly. That place that was once millions of Time Lord voices, and had become a vacant, echoing cavern was now filled with her golden light and joyful laughter. It was Rose, his Rose. He had always needed her, her hand in his. 

"I can't hold back any longer Rose! Please! Please! I have to... I need to bond with you!" he gritted his teeth, exerting what little self control remained. “I need us to be connected completely. I can’t... I can’t... Please Rose, bond your mind to mine? Be my wife! Do you consent?" 

As her reply, she kissed him with ferocity and passion. 

He pulled his lips from hers. "Do what I'm doing! Use your hands... I need... I need you to touch me to... to complete the bond!" His mouth returned to hers, and their kiss intensified even further, as she mirrored her hands on his temples. 

He spoke telepathically. “I pledge with my hearts, my mind and my will to be your husband and all that entails for the time that has been given to us. Take me?” 

Not sure how to communicate words telepathically, she spoke out loud. “Yes, of course I take you, Doctor!” She stopped and laughed through tears. “What do I say?” 

He smiled that smile that he reserved only for her. “Tell me whatever your heart tells you to say my Rose.” 

She nodded and swallowed. “All right then. Here goes. I’ll be your wife, Doctor, because... because... well, I love you. It’s all I can offer you really, my heart and my forever, however long that is.” 

The bond was complete as now, she could feel him in her mind, even though he had now removed his hands from her temples. 

_“Hello,”_ he said. 

_“Hello,”_ she replied quietly. _“Um, when did we end up back on the bed?”_ she asked with a smile, realizing she was on her back and he was bracing himself over her. 

“I think it was around the time that I nearly begged you to marry me,” he replied. “I’m not complaining. Are you?” 

“No complaints from me, Doctor. Did... did that really just happen?” she laughed, eyes closed, full and free.

“Look. No hands.” The Doctor propped himself on one hand, wiggled his fingers. 

_“I feel you in my head. Feels so, so good,”_ she laughed joyfully again. _“So am I now Mrs. Doctor?”_ She wrapped her arms around his neck, encouraging him to relax the length of his body on her. 

“Nope. You’re Rose Tyler. No other name for you.” He said earnestly, and then switched gears. “Oh! I forgot something. I have to tell you my name. Oh, that’s brilliant! I almost forgot about that part. _It's the fun part too._ Told you I’m old, I’m losing my mind,” he laughed. 

“I could care less about our age gap. Besides, I know your name,” she kissed his nose. 

“Actually, you don’t.” He rolled off of her and turned onto his side, encouraging her to do the same, pulling on her hip, and then resting his hand in the valley of her waist. 

“The Doctor is my title. My name, well, that’s a different thing all together. And I can only tell it to my wife. Wife!” he squeaked. “It’s a rather pompous moniker, and I’m pretty sure you’ll laugh, and I really don’t think you’ll ever use it, but it’s tradition. Like jumping the broom. Smashing the goblet. Kissing the bride.” 

“So you gonna tell me already or make me guess? Like in Rumpelstiltskin?” 

“Ooo, that sounds fun. Did I ever tell you about the time that I met the brothers Grimm? Became time agents eventually. I wonder if they ever met Jack...” he looked off in the distance. “All right Rose, three guesses. You get it wrong, and I get to have my way with you.” He waggled his eyebrows. 

“Better make ‘em really bad guesses then, huh? First guess: John?” she said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Good old John Smith... but no. Guess again.” 

“Ummmm, Harold?” 

“Harold? Really?” he said through squinty eyes. “Come on Rose, do you really think a Time Lord would be given the name Harold?” 

“S’a good name,” she protested. 

“You only have one guess left, Rose. Better make it a good one, or you are going to face the consequences.” 

“Hmmm. Let’s see. Oh! Oh! Oh! I’ve got it! You are Elton the Time Lord.” He could see her tongue peeking through her teeth. 

“Nope. I win.” He swallowed hard, knowing what was coming next. _“Tradition says that I tell you my name as I... well... as we...”_

“What?” she smiled coyly, confident that she knew the answer. 

_“Consummate.”_ He showed her a slow motion vision of them making love.

 _“I was hopin’ you’d say that,”_ she replied quietly. 

They stared at each other wistfully for a moment until the Doctor screwed up his face. “Um, Rose, what are we waiting for? Isn’t our first time supposed to happen in a flurry of passion? Aren’t we the so-called probably doomed never to be lovers who have waited so long, after having faced down seemingly insurmountable odds only to finally end up in each others arms? So where’s the blur of flying clothing? The mad tangle of limbs? The screaming?” He fingered the buttons on her purple blouse and traced the top button. “May I?” 

She closed her eyes and concentrated, offering him a mental picture of what he would find under her shirt. 

“No preview! That’s cheating. I want to see you with my own eyes.” Even still, his eyes darkened in arousal at the intimate image, and he set to work, unfastening her buttons. He pushed her shirt down, exposing a shoulder. Rose sat up, and leaned over on her elbow, offering him a better first view — untainted by curry. The Doctor’s jaw went slack.

“And I suppose, you want me to grab your shirt and tear it off, sending the buttons flying, right?” Rose said huskily. 

“Oh yes.” The Doctor sat up, pulling Rose with him, so that they now faced each other. 

Rose delicately unbuttoned his shirt and almost reverently slipped it off of his shoulders. The Doctor unbuttoned his cuffs, and removed it completely. He tossed it, and it landed, perfectly draped across the back of a nearby chair. 

“Why do you wear so many layers, Doctor?” Rose asked, shaking her head. 

“I thought you liked my sense of style, Rose Tyler. I’m wounded!” 

“Love your style. And now I get to unwrap you like a present any... time... I want.” 

He made a happy sound in the back of his throat. “Well, also there was that whole tactile thing,” he focused on her chest, tracing his finger over the rise of her breast. 

“Really?” she asked with a sexy smile. 

He pulled his grey undershirt off and tossed it on top of his shirt. “Hugging you? Beautiful torture. This body has very tactile skin, as you probably have guessed, I like to touch,” he pressed his chest against hers with a sigh, reveling in the the feeling of his skin on hers, “which will serve me well now, but before? Feeling every soft curve,” he pulled back and traced the circumference of her breast, “and bump...” he over-enunciated the word as he touched the dusky pink bud that was now pert and hard, protruding under the gossamer thin satin of her bra. “And I wouldn't do a thing about it, stupid me. I wouldn’t do this, no matter how much I wanted to. I wouldn’t let myself.” He reached around her back, and unclasped her bra. She shrugged it off. He grabbed it, and sent it flying over his shoulder with a sexy smirk. 

“It landed on the chandelierrohhhhh!” Rose exclaimed as the Doctor’s mouth came to her breast. He nudged her onto her back. His hand traced her other breast. 

Rose concentrated hard, and showed him what she wanted to do to him. He released her breast from his mouth and pulled back with a surprised look. 

"Take off those trousers so we can get this show on the road! Wait... you don’t have... tentacles or anything do you?” 

“What is it with tentacles?” he said, mildly affronted. “No! I’m completely normal. Well compatible. Well,” he screwed up his face, “a bit more endowed than you may be used to.” 

She paused, swallowing hard. “Doctor, I’m not used to anything.”

“What?” 

She shook her head. 

“You and... Mickey never...? What about that Jimmy Stone bloke? I thought you... well, the way you were last night... the curry... thought you were... Well, you certainly didn’t act inexperienced.” 

“Never. Mickey is a real romantic, him, and Jimmy? Um... failure to launch.”

The Doctor sputtered a laugh.

“I know what I’m in for, Doctor, and frankly, been waitin’ long enough, so will you just get on with it? I think I can handle a bit of,” she paused, “ _stretching_. Let’s con-sum-mate already,” she mimicked him, enunciating ridiculously, with a grin. 

He growled as he enveloped her with his arms. And so their dance began.


	9. Ch 8 - Hello Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No plot. {{The Who blushes}} NSFW. Explicit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Explicit. You may skip this chapter if you wish, 'cos there's just. no. plot.

Rose Tyler hadn't purposefully set out to share her marriage bed without real world experience. It just happened that way. She had read about sex, talked seriously, and gossiped jokingly with mates. On one thoroughly uncomfortable occasion, her mum, with good intent, had point-blank asked her about her relationship with Jimmy Stone, and Rose was able to tell a very relieved Jackie Tyler that no, they had not _done it._

She had fantasized plenty of times, and had taken matters into her own hands quite often, especially since the Doctor had whisked her away in his magical blue box. Of course she knew the mechanics. She’d been told that women are turned on by touch ( _that_ had been disproven, because just the sight of the Doctor lit her fire), and men by sight (she was pretty sure the Doctor was very tactile, so there went that one, too).

Do lots and lots of kissing before. Use lube. Don’t forget to tell him to use a condoms or get on The Pill or use a sponge, or diaphragm.

Don’t be bullied into anything you feel don't feel comfortable with, but don’t be timid, either. Be adventurous. (She sincerely doubted she would have a problem there, considering her life had become one big adventure.)

She enjoyed sappy romantic movies, but they didn't provide a picture of the reality of sex. And although her romance with the Doctor, minus the aliens and time travel, would have made a fantastic romantic comedy, she highly doubted that an eclectic soundtrack straight out of Nora Ephron film was about to play over invisible speakers in their borrowed bedroom. 

There were those racy romance novels that her Mum had left laying around the flat. If she were to follow their example, she should be submissively laying in repose, nervously awaiting her lover, her heaving bosom rising and falling, and he would come to her, he would worship her, his golden goddess, his quivering member proud and strong, ready to be offered as a sacrifice in her temple of love. 

Plus there was that one particular section of the library that Jack had slyly pointed out one lazy afternoon on the TARDIS, way back around a corner, by the ugly rocket floor lamp. One book had particularly captured her attention: _Sexual Practices of Ancient Gallifrey Prior to the Materialization of the Untempered Schism - a History_. While the name on the cover was translated, the inside was unreadable. It was filled with a bunch of those weird circly and hexagon shapey design thingies like the Doctor doodled on yellow sticky notes stuck everywhere. There were a few illustrations, too. They had made her blush. And she wasn't a prude. 

Forefront in her mind at this very moment though was the voice of her best mate, Shareen Costello. "If you have sex in a pool you can't get pregnant, 'cos the chlorine kills the sperm," or "You can't get pregnant your first time, ain't possible," and of course, "Do jumping jacks and take aspirin after, you'll kill all the sperm and ya' won't get pregnant," and suddenly practical Rose trumped lusty Rose. 

"Doctor," she muttered incoherently into his mouth as he sucked, toyed and teased her tongue like it was an ice lolly. "Doctor, stop for a minute," she turned her head to the side. His teeth gently tugged at her lips, trying to bring them back. 

"I'm busy," he growled, moving his attention from her throat to her chest.

”Doctor!" She sat up hastily, her breath ragged. "What about, you know, protection?" she stage whispered desperately. 

"Protection?" He looked at her like she had a piece of spinach on her tooth. "Oh! Right! Pregnancy! You know, I suppose I should really look into that a bit further." He scratched his face and scrunched up his nose. "Gallifreyan slash human pregnancies weren't unheard of you know," he looked off deep in thought. "Baby Leonardo was quite the scandal." 

"Leonardo DiCaprio is half Time Lord?" she said, shocked. 

"DaVinci. Although your biology and mind _have_ been altered radically due to your little encounter with the time vortex." He grabbed her arm and brought it to his mouth. Slowly he dragged his tongue from her wrist to the inside of her elbow. 

She shuddered slightly as he sucked for a moment in a sensitive spot, and then pointed his tongue and drew an intricate circular pattern before releasing her arm. He smacked his tongue loudly against the roof of his mouth a few times. 

"You aren't fertile," he said matter of fact, and once again attacked her chest with his mouth. 

"What? I can't have a baby?" She wailed. "I mean, it's not like we would ever have had a reason to talk about this, but honestly, Doctor, that isn't the kind of thing that you just spring on me! I don't want to get pregnant right now. Never thought about it much really, but — but —” 

The look on Rose's face broke his hearts, but the sadness in her mind hurt him more. 

"Oh, no no no no! I didn't mean that, love!" He assuaged her fears with his mind. “Ovulating! You aren't ovulating." 

"Oh." She frowned, but then looked at him puzzled. "How do you know?" 

"I've sampled enough of your saliva the past few minutes, haven't I?" he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "And I just conducted a dermal resiliency test. But there is one more place I could take a sample, just to be triply sure of course." He waggled his eyebrows. 

"Oh, of course." She said with mock seriousness. She fell back on the pillows and he set to work unfastening the button of her jeans. She raised her arms above her head and giggled at the Doctor, who was having difficulty with her zip. 

"Find this amusing, do you?” He tried to force the zipper, frustration evident on his face. He mentally cursed the inventor of such a contrary article of clothing. 

Rose's frustration now equalled the Doctor's as he frantically tugged at the zip, which seemed equally determined not to budge.

"Just sonic it already!" she finally screeched in frustration. He looked at her, a huge cocky grin on his face as he whipped out his sonic. 

"I _would_ wear these jeans today," she groaned. 

He made one more heroic attempt, and the zip finally gave loose without the aid of the sonic. "Molto bene'!" the Doctor shouted triumphantly. "Arch up," he ordered, breathing heavier than usual. 

"Yes sir," she replied cheekily.

"Sorry, that was a bit rude wasn't it?" he apologized with a grimace. 

"I sort of liked it. Don't mind _this_ kind of rude. It’s sexy.“ 

A wicked grin grew on his face as he slipped his fingers under of the waistband of her jeans, feeling the skin of her hips for the first time. She drew in a quick breath and arched up as he slowly eased them off, leaving her pink knickers in place. 

"I always sort of imagined that our first time might be you being all manly man you know? You takin' charge like this," she said as he tugged the jeans off of her legs from the ankles. Once free of them, she sat up. "You know, making me feel all hot and sexy and makin' my toes curl. You bein' the one to teach me all there is to know about oral..." her voice trailed off as she looked at his lips. 

"Satisfaction?" he said, one eyebrow raised. 

"Yeah..." she said, her stomach flipping. "And then you... takin' me," she said biting her lip and looking at him coquettishly. "I want you to be..." she chewed on her lip and blushed, looking down at her fingernails. "I want you to be the aggressor. Well _this_ time. Because for so long, I was unsure about how you felt about me, and now that I know for a fact how much you..." she looked up at him, "love me, I want you to — I want you to _take_ me Doctor. If you know what I mean. I want — need — to know that you _want_ me.“ 

"You _want_ an awful lot, considering you are asking me to be in charge, Rose Tyler," he replied with a voice that dripped with lust as he toyed with the lacy scalloped waistband of her pink knickers. "So who's _really_ in charge then, hmm?" He burned his eyes into hers as he traced patterns over the triangular piece of cloth, feeling the slightly rough texture of the concealed patch of curls. "So tell me. Have you had fantasies about me? Always _imagined_ , you said..." 

She nodded. "Yeah. I did." 

"Naughty girl." 

"Since when?" He slipped his hand inside of her knickers.

”Ohhhhh,” she cooed, bucking her hips slightly. But he removed his hand from inside of the cotton cloth and licked his fingers. “Definitely not ovulating. But just to make triple sure, I think I should take another sample. Oral contact will be the best way to obtain the highest quality sample to analyze.”

“Oh! Yes!” she begged.

“Later.”

“What?!” She sat up.

“I’m in charge, remember?” His eyes were black and fiery. “Tell. Me,” he commanded, his face utterly wicked. “I want to know about the first time you touched yourself thinking about me.”

She fell back onto the pillow, and he began to kiss her excruciately close, just above _there_ , on the softest part of her belly.

“It was,” she shuddered a breath, “was after Cardiff. I felt so sexy in that dress.”

“It was _very_ sexy. I liked the stockings. Wanted to tug ‘em off right there in the console room, hike up your skirt, and tell you that you were beautiful. Without the rude bit about being human.”

_“Shoulda. ‘Cos I went back to my room and almost cried when I discovered my vibe was out of batteries,”_ she thought. _“Shoulda pinched your sonic when you weren’t looking.”_

“That’s unfortunate.”

She covered her face. “Forgot you can hear me now.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but you’d still have been left hot and bothered, because my sonic doesn’t have that setting. Unbecoming of a Time Lord. Remind me to add a setting. How about… setting number 69 — the Rose Tyler Pleasure setting.”

She sputtered a laugh. 

“Sometimes I could hear you." He moved down again, and kissed her through the cloth of her knickers. "I could smell your pheromones." He breathed in her scent. "Nearly drove me mad when I was in leather. Remember the night we danced in the console room?" 

Rose blushed, remembering the night vividly. 

"You went back to your room." He kissed an indentation of a hip and sucked. "Said you were tired." 

Rose felt her body release a wave of heat at the memory. 

"Just thinking about it makes you wet for me, you minx." 

"Dyin' here Doctor, touch me already!" 

"I think I'm going to torture you for a while. Turn-a-bout for all of those times you tortured _me_.” He enunciated the word wickedly, and she whimpered. 

"Did you really think I wouldn't hear you, Rose? Like the sound of the water in your shower could muffle your moaning." He placed his fingers on her temples and displayed the memory to her.

She hummed at the feeling of both his frustration and arousal. "S'not my fault you didn't do anythin' about it," she complained. "I never locked my door ya know. Not once. Coulda come in any time you wanted." 

"Show me your memory, Rose," he ordered. "I want to know how I made you feel back then." 

Rose sighed, content. 

“Show me. He is me. I am him. You're bonded to _that me_ now, too."

“Why are you touching my head? Thought we didn’t need to do that now.”

“Heightens the experience. Even _more_ intimate.”

The thought of her first Doctor sensing her arousal flooded her mind with the memory and she recalled it for her new husband.

He cupped her head, crashed his lips to hers, sending them both onto the bed. The kiss was hard and fevered as he felt her arousal and desire. 

He pulled back, and hovered above her, bracing himself on his hands. Her lips were freshly swollen and red, and her face flushed from the intesity of the shared memory.

“Thank you for then, and for now," he said sincerely.

“I’ve loved you all along," she said, her eyes slightly teary. 

"I have some fantasies too you know. How do you feel about the jump seat?" He lowered himself to her chest, and kissed her breast. "Or the console?" He gently sucked on her collarbone. "Up against a strut perhaps? I want to take you on the ice on Woman Wept. And in the Anti Gravity Caves of Palmook —“ 

"Wanna go back to the TARDIS? Just forget about the dogs?" she panted. 

"Can't wait that long." 

Rose sat up, and pushed him down onto his back. She straddled him and placed a few moist, open mouthed kisses on his chest. She moved her hands into his luxurious hair and tugged gently. “Good. Because neither can I. Why do you still have your trousers on? Hardly fair.” 

The timbre of her voice thrummed through him, setting him even more on fire. The Doctor reached down between them, and blindly fumbled. She went up onto her knees giving him room to unfasten his trousers and lower his zip. He left his fly open as he grabbed her bum and pulled her into him for just a moment. “Pull them off of me.” 

She complied, and then quickly returned to straddle him. Rose tipped her pelvis into his and ground down on him. He quickly ran his tongue over his lips, unable to keep his nearly black eyes off of the gentle bounce of her breasts. 

"What do I need to know Doctor? About this? Never done this before." 

"You seem to have a pretty good idea of what to do, if your fantasy is any indication. Let your body tell you what you want. Your arousal and our bond are going to drive you forward. Your body is on a collision course with mine, and nothing is going to stop that now. Can't. Well, it can, but it would be very, very unpleasant for both of us. It's a bond thing. Hear it? Feel it? That singing in your ears? That's our launch sequence. Point of no return, more or less." 

"Coupla guys tried to use that excuse with me after a dance or two in the pub, but I never knew women had a point of no return." 

"Not all women, Rose, just those who are lucky enough to be bond-mated for life." 

With boldness, she reached down and palmed the bulge under his pants. "What are you waiting for, then?" She resumed the circling of her hips.

"I want to make it last. What's the rush? Well, other than our ridiculous and inconveniently separate dinners with Meanie Queenie and her poor, brow beaten brother, Prince Whathisname. Thanks to the ridicously late royal dinner bell, we have hours.” 

Her hips stopped moving abruptly. “Doctor, I really don't want to go to that dinner.”. 

“Yeah. Not looking so forward to it myself. Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. We do best when we improvise, now don't we?" 

She agreed with a nod. 

The Doctor sighed as he traced a breast with his finger. "Waited so long, Rose. I had shut off my..." he half smiled, "launch sequence a long time ago. Although, I did contemplate turning it back on last night when you crawled up onto my lap and began to snog the life out of me." 

"Obviously workin' now, innit." She rose up onto her knees, and traced her fingertip up and down his restrained length.

Something dark came over his face that, had she not been completely sure of his love, should have scared her. Instead, it only further stoked her already smoldering arousal. She leaned forward, and grazing her erect nipples across his chest, gave him a wet, open-mouthed kiss. She pulled away slowly, and sat back down across his lap. 

“What’s it gonna be like? I mean really like? Not like in smutty books.”

“I’ll tell you exactly what it’s going to be like. I am _not_ going to be some fumbling, unskilled lover. I will be gentle of course, I would never, ever, never hurt you. But, I will be aggressive and I do believe that when the time comes, I may be a bit _eager_. And you will be _begging_. Are you ready for that?" 

“Pretty eager myself,” she whispered. She placed her hands on his chest, one over each heart. She closed her eyes had felt the steady tha-tha-tha-thump of his double heartbeat. 

He half smiled, sat up, and then pulled her to his chest and whispered darkly in her ear, "Let's take a bath." 

“What? Now? But I’m sorta dying here,” she confessed.

“I promise. It will be worth it. It will help things move along _smoothly_ ,” he said huskily in her ear.

She pulled a deep breath through her nose.

“It will help you relax. It is your first time, love, and I want to minimize the discomfort.”

“Thank you,” she blushed.

They removed themselves from the bed and stood in the dancing firelight. Twilight had now given way to darkness, and the stars were visible through the window. Silhouetted against the dim firelight from the behind the grate, Rose smiled at how his wild hair glowed. He extended his hand to Rose, and she took it. He led her into the adjoining small, but luxurious bathing suite. He turned on the water, tested it, and finding it unsatisfactorily cool, pulled his sonic out of his trouser pocket. He fiddled with the tool and aimed it at the exposed metal piping until it glowed orange. 

Rose started to remove her knickers, but he stopped her with a quietly firm voice and gentle hand. 

"No Rose, I get to do that." 

She squeaked at all that the tone of his voice communicated. She’d _asked_ for it after all, for him to be in charge. 

He hooked his fingers into the waistband and slowly drew them down, until they were far enough down her thighs that gravity took hold, and they fell easily to the heated aggregate pebble floor. 

He surveyed the entirety of her naked body, and then stuttered one word: “Gorgeous.” But then his gaze turned slightly predatory.

She felt her face flush seeing the fire in his eyes.

“Blushing bride?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Not really used to being starkers in front of someone. Especially someone I’ve been dreaming about for a long time.” She bit her lip, but didn’t try to hide herself.

“My turn to be ogled.” 

Rose rolled her eyes, feeling less awkard thanks to the lightness in his voice. She drew her fingers down his waist to the waistband. And as he had done, she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his black boxer briefs. She drew in a breath. Closed her eyes and pushed them down. She opened her eyes and looked down at him and cleared her throat. “Is this where I say that I’m about to get lucky?” 

"Oh, you have no idea, Rose." 

"Confident then?" 

"I'm that sort of man." He tugged his wife to his body and and kissed her like it was the first time that their lips had met. He pulled away with a flourish, leaving her breathless and weak-kneed, scooped her into his arms, and lowered her into the large bath. He pushed her back up against the tiled wall and faced her properly. He pursed his lips tightly, and then his face broke out into a wolfish grin. "Time to see what pleases Rose Tyler." With one hand on each side of his wife, gripping the tub wall, he raked his eyes over her neck, shoulders and chest. "So. Where shall I start?" 

"Uh..." she closed her eyes and shook her head, still amazed that she was in a bathtub with the Doctor. Naked. On her wedding night. On purpose. And it was not some strange alien ritual or fake marriage. They were married. Really married! And just this morning, she had been crying her eyes out in the shower, fearful that she was about to be abandoned. 

He smirked and lowered himself shoulder deep into the water and slid to the other end of the tub. The water sloshed melodically. "Reminds me of the baths in that desert palace on Morocco - the planet not the city." He stretched his arms out, looking as comfortable, casual and relaxed as is if he were sitting in the TARDIS library, relaxing on the sofa. The water was dappled jewel-toned spots of light, cast down by bronze lanterns set with red and blue crystals, each lit from the inside by a flickering gas flame. 

"Yeah I remember that place. That's where I got kidnapped and forced into the harem of that desert king." 

"Ah yes. Good old King Dovana-dana-dada. He was sorta Jabba-esque. Hut-like. Hut-ish? I do believe that you were just about to be plucked from the harem to be delivered to the king for a night of exotic pleasures when I arrived just in time to whisk you away to safety. Loved that outfit you were wearing." He waggled his eyebrows. “Very Princess Leia.”

“Yeah, you try wearing a metal corset, and you won’t be doing that eyebrow thing you’re doing. And If I recall, _Doctor_ , it was _Jack_ that did most of the saving that night. If it hadn't have been for him pretending to be a eunuch…” She raised her eyebrows and leveled a look.

“I’m no eunich. Don’t think I could even _pretend_ to be a unique. Far too much evidence to the contrary." He dimpled the water with his fingertips, sending small waves to caress his bride. 

Rose spied a large, new cake of soap in the dish. "Wanna wash?" she asked.

He snatched the the bar of soap from her hands.

“Hey, I was about to use that.”

His face beamed. “Oh! Rose! Brilliant!” he nearly squealed. “I thought I smelled something familiar. Take a big old whiff of this! Now tell me that isn’t what I think it is.”

She raised an eyebrow. “The curry spices? Seriously? You sure this country isn’t called Sexalusia?”

“Maybe they need more help than we do in that department.” He extended his foot and tickled Rose's belly with his big toe. 

Rose abandoned her place and moved through the water to where her husband was seated. She lathered the soap and started with his hair. Her amusement grew as he started to moan as she massaged his head. 

"Oh! Oh! Oh! Rose! That is... just... amazing!" His eyes nearly rolled back in his head and his mouth hanged open as he groaned. 

“Soap doin’ it for you then?”

“Nope. This is all you.”

"Come on then, rinse off," she ordered. 

"Awww, do you really have to stop?" he whinged. 

"Well, if that's what you really want, all right. I'll just keep washing your hair over and over again.”

She yelped as he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap, his chest pressing into her back. He began to lather the soap, just as she had.

“I don’t get off having my hair washed, Doctor.”

“I have something in mind that I _do_ happen to know you enjoy.” His hands moved to cup her breasts. His hands slid over the surface of her skin, slick now with fragrant lather. She leaned her head back and rested her head on his shoulder, breathing rhythmically as he fondled.

She could feel the self-satisfaction in the Doctor's mind and feel his face break out into grin as he sensed what she desired next. Rose ground her buttocks into his groin seeking friction as arousal grew deep within her core. Seeing the growing fantasy in her mind, her desire to be touched, he lowered a hand to her soft belly, where he halted for a moment to caress the tender skin. Then, with aching slowness, he slid his hand lower, and lower still.

"Touch me... I need... you to touch me," she pleaded repeatedly. 

She arched her back and spread her legs. 

He smiled, and ceased his torturous teasing, knowing exactly what she wanted. He squeezed her hip pulling her into him firmly. 

She closed her eyes and let her head drop backwards onto his shoulder as he lazily continued to pleasure her, increasing the intensity.

"You are so soft," he said into her ear, his voice thick.

"And you're so hard," she countered, voice cracking. "S'a good match," 

"Better with two."

She moaned louder and rocked her pelvis rhythmically into his deft and deliberate actions. Slowly, he flexed his fingers, gently stretching her, preparing her for what was next.

The Doctor removed his hand from her hip, and used his pointer finger to turn her face to his. He kissed her with tenderness and telepathically showed her his intentions. She agreed, and deepened their kiss, thanking him. He added a third finger and expanded her further than she had ever dared with her own touch. His lean fingers were long and strong, and Rose's eyes flew open and her breath hitched as he applied pressure - not too much, not too little – the perfect amount. It stung for only the briefest moment as he accomplished the task so that their consummation would be as pleasurable as possible. The pain quickly dulled and she relaxed into his touch. He kept his fingers in place, comforting, and calming her. 

But then he abruptly pushed her to the other end of the tub. He smiled darkly. “Now here’s a quirk of Gallifreyan biology I think you are going to like very much.” He disappeared under the water and within moments, he heard her cries of ecstasy from under the water. He resurfaced with a flourish. Rose immediately grabbed him by the shoulders and they met in a passionate kiss, mouths open, tongues tangling, teeth crashing, hands roving. 

"Doctor, that was... you are... bloody fantastic!" She started to laugh hysterically. 

“Respiratory bypass. I could do that for oh, about an hour. If you’d last that long. There was this one time when this Osirin service robot was trying to strangle me –" 

"Tell me about the robots later. Take me to bed."


	10. Ch 9 - Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Explicit. They complete their bonding ceremony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Explicit. Squint, and you can see a plot. You can skip if you are so inclined.

The Doctor stood up quickly, sending water spilling out onto the floor. He pulled Rose up to him. They embraced for a moment, enjoying the sensations of their slick bodies up against each other and then both stepped out of the tub. Rose lunged for a towel, wanting to dry off as quick as humanly possibly. The Doctor wasn't so patient as that, and quickly found his sonic, and took Rose's towel out of her hands. He waved the sonic over her a few times, ignoring her hair and then dried himself, not ignoring his own hair, much to Rose's amusement. 

"That is just so... wrong! Your hair does that..." she waved her hand around, "naturally?" 

"From the day of my regeneration. Woke up from my healing coma looking like this. It is rather great hair, isn't it?" He looked in the mirror, ruffling his hair, adjusting pieces this way and that until he was satisfied. He straightened up and tipped his chin proudly, and saw Rose's reflection in the mirror, rolling her eyes, but then he saw that she was continuing to watch him preen, with an approving look. 

"I don't see you complaining, Rose Tyler," he turned around, pleased with both his hair and his wife's opinion. If he had been wearing his pinstripes, his hands would have been in his pockets, the picture of manly, casual confidence. 

"Oh, I'm not complaining at all," she said, her voice low. She turned and hurried out of the bathroom, catching the corner of the doorway with her hand and swinging around it as she left. She ran to the bed, jumped on it, and assumed a seductive pose. 

The Doctor quickly followed, and stood at the foot of the bed, studying her for a moment before he joined her, stretching his long, lean body over hers. He took her hands into his, and stretched them up over her head before he attacked her mouth with his lips. Their kiss quickly escalated to all tongues and teeth and moaning and biting and soon, Rose was begging for more than a kiss. 

The Doctor slid his knee between her legs, encouraging her to spread herself for him. He kissed her hard, pulling her lower lip into his mouth before releasing, and then left a trail of quick, wet, open-mouthed kisses down her face, across jawline, to the well of her throat where he paused for a moment and played her with his tongue until she squirmed at the sensation. 

The Doctor broke the silence. “You ready?”

“I want to know your name, to know you completely, and I'm not sure what that even means. But it's like my mind is telling me that's what's gonna happen." 

"Bond thing," he whispered as he moved above his wife, hovering over her, his eyes blackening with renewed lust. Everything that he had warned her of suddenly came to fruition. His drive to join her physically became foremost in his mind, as all tenderness faded away, replaced by a single-minded need to enter her body physically, and to brand his name on her mind. 

Even though she felt his aggressive need to make her his, to claim her, Rose knew she was safe, that he would never ever hurt her, and her desire for him surged to the point of necessity. 

Following his mental prompting, Rose prepared her mind and body. He poised himself at her entrance and touched his forehead to hers. She cried out at the suddenness of the filling. 

He quaked as the intensity of their joining nearly overwhelmed his mind, body and hearts as it was now a physical and mental necessity that he give her his name. 

"Rose Marion Tyler, my wife, my bond mate, I share with you that which no one else knows. It was given to me by Time, and I now I share it with you. You will carry it, sealed onto your mind, burned into your essence, until the cursed day we are separated by death, may it never come. If I should regenerate, my name will not be removed. Sickness, anger, calamity, space... even time itself cannot break our bond or remove my name. Should another dare to attempt to steal your heart, my name will draw you back. And so I give you my name. My body, hearts and mind are now yours. Only yours." 

Rose sighed as he seared his name into her mind. It glowed and throbbed, warmed her from the inside out. Comforted her, instructed her, enlightened her of his devotion and love. At once, she felt both at peace and invigorated. She gave her response, as it was now scripted in her mind, revealed to her to be shared with him. 

She sang his name back to him, though she didn't understand how she could pronounce the unpronounceable. "My love, my beloved, my heart, body and mind are now yours, only yours." 

The background music in their heads that the Doctor had teasingly called their launch sequence, now surged and swelled, enveloped their minds, urged them on, pushed each of them to fulfill the physical needs of their mate. 

But this physical act of intimacy, while wonderful and brilliant, and so, so _perfect_ was only a dim representation of their love for each other. 

And as the Doctor joined with his Rose for the first time, and as his Rose sang his real name, on a hill high above the TARDIS sang as well. The timelines of the two whom she loved the most in all of time and space had finally merged. Just as it should be. 


	11. Ch 10 - The Name That Keeps Me Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Explicit. They had to get out of bed sometime...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first part of this chapter is NSFW, but then the plot starts rolling.

The room was dark and dying embers barely glowed in the grate. The dim shadows cast through the fire-screen by the red coals no longer danced, but were still, like red-hued frescoes painted on stone walls. Through the round window on the far side of the nearly circular room, stars were visible, twinkling in the inky black sky, and a small creamy crescent moon was hanging low on the horizon. 

In the bed that was barely big enough for two, Rose Tyler and her Doctor slept, fitted together. It had been two hours and fourteen minutes since the Doctor had shared his name with his bride, and two hours and two minutes since their eyes had shut in unison, reluctantly trading physical and mental pleasure for much-needed, post-passion slumber. 

Their two minds shared a single dream in which they made love slowly and tenderly on a deep bed of soft red grass under the waning light of twin suns dropping in a darkening orange sky. The soft melody of a perfumed breeze whistled through the leaves of silver trees. Red grass blanketed the steep slopes of the snow-capped mountains, far off in the distance, glowing in the light of the setting suns. 

As the dream faded, and the lovers slowly began their return to wakefulness, hands began to roam once again. The Doctor rested his back against Rose’s warm chest, and Rose sought the firmness of the Doctor’s buttocks, pressing her hips against the trim muscle. She traced his newly memorized name across his chest with a lazy fingertip. The Doctor’s eyelids opened gradually as his bride’s butterfly touch beckoned him awake. He turned in her arms to face her, and stroked away a stray lock of hair that had fallen into her sleep-flushed face. 

Rose pulled her husband close and pressed a not-so-gentle kiss on his lips, silently beckoning him to open his mouth to her tongue. Passion quickly escalated, though not a single word was spoken. Their mutual intentions were perfectly clear. Rose nudged the Doctor’s shoulder, and he smiled in anticipation as she straddled him, leaned over and once again, resumed their heated kiss. His hands roamed over her back and bum, pulling her up and onto him, both of them physically ready.

She released her mouth from his, sat up, and slid him inside, eliciting stuttering breath from her husband. She took a moment to prepare her body to receive him fully, leaned forward and then slowly drew herself straight, resting her weight on her knees, and then sank down, fully surrounding him. 

He panted as he tipped his hips and began to thrust. He grunted proudly as his own arousal grew wildly. 

The bonding music in their minds swelled, but this time, the melody was different. It was percussive, beating out a primal rhythm to which their passions danced. This was not the tender lovemaking of their dream, nor was it the emotional fulfillment of their consummation. 

This was just sex – hot, dirty, needy and physical. Grunting, primal, and a bit greedy. 

Skin slapping. Bedsprings squeaking. Grunting, moaning, and whimpering, and groaning.

He thrust his hips upwards off of the bed until together they called out, climaxing nearly in synchronization. She collapsed down onto him, sweaty, glistening, spent, her lips smashing into his. He sucked her lips and tongue until the pulsing in his groin subsided. She swallowed hard and then flung her head back, and rolled off. They lay for a moment, staring at the ceiling, the only sound was their labored breathing, swallowing, and the occasional gasp, slowly returning to normal. 

“Hello,” was all he needed to say before Rose broke into peels of joyful laughter, which he quickly joined. 

“I’m totally and completely happy. Never been happier than I am at this very moment.” She sighed. “Will we always hear that music?”

“Don’t know. We’ll just have to keep on experimenting.”

“Always a scientist, you are.” She grinned, catching her tongue in her teeth. “Why does my hand itch?” She examined at her left palm, and then scratched it. 

“Come to think of it, so does mine. Shall I investigate?” He waggled his eyebrows and licked her palm, and then his right. “Oh I know what they are, they’re bonding marks! Forgot about those.”

“Here,” he squeaked as she squeezed him, “let me show you.” He rolled out of bed and retrieved his sonic screwdriver from his suit coat. He got back onto the bed and held her hand open, shining the light using a simple torch setting. Gallifreyan writing appeared. He then showed her his own palm, where a similar design was revealed under the glow of the blue light.

“Sort of like wedding rings. But you can’t lose ‘em, well, unless someone cut off your hand, but then again, if your hand were to be cut off, you wouldn’t have a finger for a wedding ring now would you? You could wear it on your other hand, I suppose. Or I could brand it onto that hand.” He shuddered. “Can’t wash them down the drain. Much more practical.” 

Her mouth hung open. “You and your gob. I love it! You know,” she held his right hand with her left, “first time you ever took my hand, it was this one.” 

“I remember,” he kissed the back of her hand. “Some memories will never be lost to senility, Rose Tyler.” 

“Speaking of rings, because well, she’s all about the ring. Are we gonna tell my mum?” 

“I think that she may already–“ 

Three pounds on the door interrupted the Doctor, and a deep masculine voice spoke. “Rose Tyler, you are required by royal order to report to Prince Ferdin’s private chambers. A dressing maid will be sent to assist you in fifteen minutes.” 

Rose rolled over and looked at the Doctor. "Do I have to?" she mouthed in exasperation. 

He smirked and whispered, "At least Princie is civil." 

“Um... thanks,” she called out towards the door and then looked back at the Doctor longingly. "I don't want to leave you,” she looked at him, crestfallen. 

"Tell you what." He pulled her close, and she rested her head on his chest, his soft hair under her cheek. "Let's see what we can see, and after oh, half an hour or so, we’ll say thanks but no thanks, leave, and retire for the evening. We'll go back to the TARDIS and do some more of this." He thrust his hips into hers. 

She giggled. “Insatiable, you are.” 

“I always finish what I start,” he said in a thick, dark voice full of sensual promise. 

“You know, Doctor, that queen has the hots for you," she said, running her fingers through his thick, sex-mussed hair. 

"Well of course she does, just look at me," he said unashamedly proud before Rose hit him playfully in the arm. "I do believe, Rose Tyler, that you are jealous." 

"Oh, I am not," she clucked her tongue. 

“I promise you, my love, keeper of my hearts, that there is no one," he stopped, "no one," he emphasized, "who can come between you," he kissed her deeply, and then rested his forehead against hers whispered, "and me." 

She smiled and nuzzled his shoulder with a sigh. "I suppose I do have a jealous streak," she admitted. "And I have a feeling that I am going to have to keep my jealousy in check. You, my Doctor are gorgeous, and plenty of women, and some men even, will be throwin' themselves at you." 

"I was jealous you know, of Jack." 

"I know," she said. “Real turn on, too.” She lazily toyed with his chest, kissing, licking and teasing his chest hair with her teeth. 

“And the queen is jealous of you,” He said, stroking her hair. 

"She thought I was a prostitute.” She pulled away only enough to speak, and then began with new fervor, placing kiss after kiss down the center of his chest, moving toward his abdomen. 

"And I corrected her, didn’t I? She asked if we were married, and even though at the time we were not, I didn’t give the Queen any reason to believe that we were not a pair. Quite the opposite in fact.” 

"I think you should flirt with her."

"What would I do that for?" he protested, his voice soaring high. 

Rose giggled at the whinging timbre. "Because, you, Doctor, can be quite charming, and what's the harm in a bit of flirting? You know, just to get the information that we need?" 

He pondered. “And then, when said information is extracted, I will tell her that Rose Tyler, is mine, and I,” he kissed her forehead, “am hers, and if she tries to snog me, I’ll do what I do best.” 

“Snog her back?” she teased, her tongue poking through her teeth.

“Run away.” He grinned, extracted himself from his wife’s arms and headed for the bathroom. 

Rose followed, and together they quickly showered – purely for cleansing purposes save a few teasing touches and caresses – and then dressed. Rose hastily tidied the bed, not wanting to advertise to the ladies' maid, who would be arriving presently, that she and her husband had just shagged like bunnies off and on for the past three hours. 

oOo 

As promised, fifteen minutes after the first interruption, a young girl knocked on the door, holding a clothing item on a hangar, covered by a cloth bag. She had a satchel slung over her shoulder as well. “Are you Miss Rose Tyler?" 

"Yeah, that's me." 

"I’m here to prepare you for your night with the prince.” Her eyes were shy and kind, though there was fear behind them. “May I enter?” 

“Yeah, come on in.” Rose opened the door fully, and beckoned her in with a kind smile. 

The girl looked around the room and her eyes rested on the slightly ruffled bed. She looked at Rose’s wet hair, and the man with the cat-ate-the-cream grin on his face, sitting casually on the small sofa next to the freshly-laid fire. She shuffled her feet nervously. 

The Doctor sprang up. "Hello, I'm the Doctor who are you?" 

"My name is Jana sir."

"How long have you worked here in the palace?"

"Two grand cycles, sir." 

"Good. Good for you. Well," he scratched his neck, "I suppose it's time for me to go. I will leave you two lovely ladies to your primping." The Doctor squeezed Rose's hand and kissed her on the cheek. "I love you," he whispered in her ear. "If you need me, just call for me like this.” He instructed her how to project herself to him through their bond. He squeezed her hand once more, and left one more kiss, this time, lingering on her lips. 

"I love you too, Doctor,” she whispered. 

"See you soon.”

“Not if I see you first," she replied, grinning. 

Jana silently observed the couple as she laid out jewelry, hair ornaments, cosmetics and perfume on the dressing table. 

The Doctor offered one final glance, a mental hug and smile as he left the chamber. 

"If you will change into your gown please, miss." The girl carefully offered Rose the garment bag, and Rose slipped into the bathroom to change. 

"Call me Rose,” she requested over her shoulder. “You like working here, then? It's all posh and fancy in the palace innit?" Rose attempted to make pleasant conversation through the door. 

"It's all right, I suppose. My mother worked here. So did my grandmother and aunt. My father is the, well, he’s the gamekeeper." Her voice hitched as she said the word. 

"Family business, huh?" Rose emerged, looking down at her gown, frowning. "Did I put this thing on right? It's so revealing." The gossamer thin silk of the green gown accentuated every bump, dimple and curve, and the design was provocative, offering an ample view of her cleavage while it exposed her entire back. It was unlike any clothing that Rose had seen worn since she arrived. 

“You — you look b—beautiful,” she said, as if it were her duty to compliment her mistress. “Finest Barcelonan silk miss, er, Rose. Aren't you pleased?" The girl stumbled over her words. 

"My husband would be plenty pleased," she said, blushing. 

"Husband?" Jana asked, attempting to be casual, but failing miserably. 

"Yeah, my husband the Doctor. Me 'n him, we're newlyweds." Rose proudly. "You're the first one ta' know!" She grinned and then frowned as she tugged at the neckline, attempting to cover up. 

"Well, congratulations are in order," she said meekly. "Sit please, and I will set to work on your hair." With deft fingers, she began plaiting Rose's hair in the ornate local fashion. "How do you know the prince then? He never entertains since he got mar — Uh…” 

"What was that Jana? Since he got what?" Rose asked, easily picking up on her slip.

"I can't say, miss, I have already said too much.” Her voice was clipped.

Rose turned in her chair and faced the girl, who was now visibly shaking.

“I... I think there has been some mistake... this gown... it’s a..." she blushed, "pleasure gown.”

“Pleasure gown! Whattdya mean pleasure gown?” Rose frowned. 

“F...for an... an in...intimate evening,” she stuttered. 

Rose rolled her eyes. “I agreed to dinner, not that I wanted to even, and definitely not to... to... pleasuring!" 

“The... the queen herself, she picked out your gown and accessories. I see... I see it’s green. Prince's favorite color, even.” She shook her head, eyes closed. “This doesn't make any sense. None. I... I..." The poor girl looked like she was about to cry, hands and lips both quivering, though she continued to work on the Rose’s hair, finely plaiting, pinning and securing the elaborate and elegant coiffure. 

"Jana, please, tell me what's wrong. Obviously there’s somethin’ wrong. I am a friend, I promise. The Doctor and me, we are here to help. It’s what we do. We heard there was somethin' goin' on up here, somethin’ not so good." Rose paused and thought for a moment, and decided to go out on a limb. "You said your dad is the gamekeeper?" 

Jana calmed a bit. “Yeah. His title used to be Kennel Guardian. He's in charge of the dogs. Used to be a time when the dogs were special, revered even. Now the queen treats 'em worse than swine. Hates 'em. Dad loves 'em though, keeps 'em safe. Protects 'em." 

Rose turned around, pulling the plait out of Jana's hands. "Do you think you could arrange for me to meet your dad?" 

Jana softened a bit. "But what about the prince?" 

Rose puffed out her cheeks and blew air through her mouth. ”Jana, you were telling me something about the prince. You stopped. What were you going to tell me?" 

Again, the girl opened and closed her mouth several times, ready to speak, but obviously afraid. 

"I never asked to meet the prince for dinner let alone,” she looked down at her gown and motioned with her hands, “needin’ this. And it was pretty obvious he didn't want to be with me tonight. Said he had plans, but... the queen is the one who forced the issue." 

Jana’s face relaxed and words came spilling out. “It's because he is already married Rose. Very happily so. To my aunt. The queen hates her, of course. She isn't royalty, and she loves the dogs, and so does Ferdie. It's how they met years ago. My aunt is my Dad's baby sister, and she grew up working in the kennels, taking care of the dogs. Ferdie came down every day to the kennels, until that... that,” she closed her eyes and composed herself, pulling back from her anger. “Until Queen Jovankava ascended to the throne when the Blessed Queen Mother was forced to abdicate.” 

A small smile grew on Rose’s face. “Do you know Miss Minchin? She was the Queen Mother’s personal secretary, right?” 

A smile overtook the girl's pretty face. "She's my godmother, miss. I love her like she’s my own flesh and blood.” 

“Jana, Horatio sent us here. We’re here to save the dogs." 

"I knew there was something about the two of you. The minute I walked in. I knew you were good people." Jana grabbed the satchel she had brought with her. "Put your clothes in here. Go to the prince, change out of this thing there. You won't want to wear that thing in the kennels. Too beautiful. He'll take you there." 

"Jana, Queen Jovankokovoko--"

Jana sputtered a laugh. "That's Jovankava, but I think I like your name for her better." 

Rose stood up and shoved her jeans and purple shirt into the satchel. "The Doctor calls her Meanie Queenie." Rose looked up from her work. "So what's Queen Jo holdin' over the prince then? I ain't brilliant, but even I could see that she was threatenin' him." 

"She has my Aunt Penelope locked up in a tower, that's what." Jana answered angrily. 

"Locked in a tower? Seriously? I suppose she has really long hair, too..." Rose joked under her breath. 

"Course she does. So why is your hair is so short anyway? Did you cut it as penance or lose it in a raging fever?" 

"No. And why do people keep asking me if it’s short ‘cos I’m doing some penance thing? I cut it on purpose. It's not that short back where I’m from." 

"And your husband really likes it that way?" 

"I do believe he does." Rose grinned at the memory of the Doctor tugging at her hair only a half an hour before. 

"I wish I could send word ahead to Ferdi. Used to be a time when I could communicate with the dogs, and they could have relayed a message to the him, but something is blocking my transmitter. Haven't been able to speak to them in months." 

"You have the psychic implant then?" 

"Yes. I not supposed to have one, being just a maid, my father gave me one. He thought it might come in handy someday." 

As before, the guard pounded on the door. 

"It's time. Your escort is here," Jana whispered. "Rose, don't trust the guards. They all work for the queen. And please. Please tell Ferdin that Penelope is fine and that she loves him and misses him so, so much, would you?" Jana implored. 

"I promise, Jana." Rose hugged her, much to the girl's surprise. "Don't worry. The Doctor, he'll figure it out. He's fantastic. I promise." 

Rose hesitated for moment before she opened the door. "Wish me luck." She opened the door, and stepped through, carrying a much larger burden than the satchel that was slung over her shoulder. The stakes had just been risen. 

oOo 

"You are late, Doctor." Queen Jovankava called to the Doctor from behind semi-sheer golden curtains. The Doctor advanced, and pulled back a curtain, and then halted. The Queen was reclining seductively like a black jaguar, and probably just as deadly. "Welcome to my chambers.” 

Beyond the curtains, a low table was filled with delicacies. It was surrounded by cushions, bolsters and pillows. Numerous candles were lit throughout the chamber. Somewhere, spices and incense burned, filling the room with a heady aroma. Gas lanterns, similar to those in the room where he and Rose had just spent the best three hours of his ten lives, hanged from the ceiling, casting their gemstone-encrusted light onto every surface. The effect would have been supremely erotic, had the woman beckoning him been Rose Tyler. 

"Oh don't be so shy, Doctor,” she encouraged him forward. Her voice was smooth as the silk of her black, asymmetrical dress. “Come. Sit," she called to the Doctor as she petted the lounge, but he remained unmoved. 

“We both know why you are here. Let's be adults about this. I think you are fantastically attractive, and I can only imagine you think the same of me. Why else would you have agreed to come? Alone no less. So, how is your dear little friend? Is she excited for her big night with the handsome prince? Or is she nervous? He has quite a reputation with the ladies. I hope she is prepared for what she has gotten herself into.” 

The queen was wearing a simple short black dress, asymmetrically cut, hanging from one shoulder. Her hair pulled back into a single thick plait down her back. Gone was the tarty look she had sported at lunchtime. This was a woman who knew what she wanted, and having recognized that the Doctor’s tastes did not run in that direction, had changed her look accordingly. 

The Doctor finally advanced, but regarded her in passing, raised a single, enigmatic eyebrow and then continued forward, to survey the room beyond. 

Something caught his attention, and he loped over to a small shelf beyond the queen that prominently displayed a curio. "Well, would you look at this!" He picked up the small figurine and rolled it in his fingers a few times. He reached into a pocket, fished around and pulled out a magnifying glass to examine the item closer, his tongue stuck out in concentration. 

"That was a gift from the Madrolean ambassador. It is a symbol of the peace and goodwill between our nations." 

"Well,” he dragged out the dramatically, his face blasé, "he may have told you that.” He set it down firmly with a frown, put hands back in his pockets, and continued to slowly examine the contents of the room, ambling from place to place. 

Queen Jovankava slinked over to him, nabbing the figure on the way, and slipped her arm into his, joining him on his tour. "Aren't you going to tell me what it is?" she asked. 

He smiled. "It's a long way from home, for one. Beautiful workmanship. Have you ever just sat down and taken a look at it? A good long look? Not a single seam. Never could figure out how they did that." He grabbed it from her hands once again and squinted through the magnifying glass. “It’s Boxan,” he grinned. “Fantastic craftsmen, those Boxans. I visited their workshop on Trading Platform Seven dash Zed a few years back. Tried to spy on them, learn their secrets, but they caught me and tossed me in a very unpleasant cell for a few weeks." He crinkled his nose. "We're not having padonut butter on toast for dinner are we?" he asked. 

"Nooooo," she replied, with an odd look on her face. 

"Good. It's a bug." 

She pulled away and frowned. "They served you bugs while you were incarcerated?" 

"No, they didn't feed me bugs,” he looked at her condescendingly. “This.” He held it in her face. “It's a listening device. They are spying on you." 

Her face flushed with anger. "The nerve! How dare they! I entered into those talks in good faith. I trusted him!" she seethed. 

"Oh come on now, Queen Jo-van-ka-va," he softened his face and pooched his lower lip just a bit, "spying is an age old tradition between kingdoms. Don't hold it against him too much," he implored, and then had a thought. "What did your canine advisor say about the matter? Did he counsel you to trust the ambassador?" 

"I told you before," she replied haughtily, "I don't employ the services of dogs." 

She grabbed the curio from the Doctor, and threw it to the cold tile floor. It broke into three pieces, revealing an iridescent marble that pulsed with light, which she quickly crushed with her heel. "No matter. Now, Doctor, back to more pleasant things. I think I would like to get to know you better. I have a feeling that you have some hidden treasure underneath that brown suit of armor you wear. What do you say about changing into something a little more... conducive to... discovering what is underneath, hmmm?" She disappeared into an anteroom and returned with a black silk dressing down, which she offered to the Doctor, dangling it enticingly from the tip of her finger. 

He looked at it and grinned. "That does look very comfortable, Queen, but where is the fun in that? Wouldn't you rather discover the treasure one piece at a time?" 

She smiled wickedly. "I do think I am going to enjoy discovering you. Why don't we start with that horrible coat." 

"Horrible? This coat? I love this coat! Janis Joplin gave me this coat!" he protested. 

"Well I don't know who this Janis Joplin person is, but he or she has dubious taste in outerwear." 

The Doctor slipped off his long coat and tossed it over a chair close to a door. 

"So, what have you planned for dinner? Happily, not padonut butter on toast, but whatever it is, it smells delicious." 

“I’m glad you have come... hungry. It’s so late. Almost time for bed, even. Such a silly tradition to dictate that dinner isn’t served until two hours before the end of the cycle.” She walked quickly to the low table and lowered herself to cushion, reclining on her side, showing her figure to its best advantage, her long, toned legs displayed, the deep slit of her dress split open provocatively. “My chef has prepared a beautiful meal, including my favorite dish, Svaldalusian curry.” 

The Doctor smirked inwardly. “Svadlilusian curry? Sounds delicious. I love a good spicy curry, me.” He played dumb. 

“Have you not heard of our curry? I’m surprised. It’s rather well known.” 

“Nope,” he lied, and dropped himself down, cross-legged.

“Why don’t you remove your jacket, loosen that leash thing around your neck.” 

“You don’t like it? I thought you might like my leash,” he flirted. 

“Well, when you put it like that...” she offered him the basket of flatbread. “Please, try it. I want to know how you like it.” 

The Doctor tore a piece of bread and dipped it into the communal curry pot, slowly drew it to his mouth, and tasted. “Mmm, this is good,” he drew out the words. “What’s in here? It’s brilliant!” he over exaggerated. 

“Secret, of course,” she teased as she dipped bread into the dish and began to eat. 

“So, Queen, tell me about yourself. I want to know everything.” And so Doctor began his fact- finding mission. 

oOo 

The guards led Rose through winding corridors, across bridges suspended between turrets, through tunnels and stairwells until finally they reached a remote part of the castle, high in a cluster of turrets in the upper wings. One of the guards pounded on the heavy wooden door. A paige answered, and ushered them in. 

Rose gulped as she stepped through the door. She could feel her husband’s gentle warmth comforting her mind, encouraging her on. 

“Miss Rose Tyler,” the paige announced. 

“Guards, you are dismissed,” commanded the prince. “No disturbances until morning. I wish to entertain Ms. Tyler in private.”

Rose jumped as the twin heavy bronze doors slammed with a thud.


	12. Ch 11 - Royal Hospitality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner is served, and it is spicy!

Rose was alone in Prince Ferdin’s chambers. And from the look of the thick bronze doors, and the stone walls, the room would be soundproof. No one would hear her screams. Except the Doctor. That gave her _some_ comfort. 

She surveyed the room, eyes darting from place to place. A beautiful servant girl carried a tray into the room. 

“Your dinner, your Majesty. As requested, Lover’s Curry with plia bread, your favorite wine. There is also fresh fruit and warm caramel.”

“Is there sparkling wine in my bedchamber?”

“Um. Sorry. I will return presently.”

“Miss Tyler, welcome to my home, he said loudly.” He bowed slightly, and then approached her taking her hand, drawing it to his lips gallantly. “You look radiant.” 

“Th... thank you, your highness... er, your majesty, er...”

“Since we will be getting to know each other on a more personal level, you may call me Ferdin.”

The servant returned, glanced at the couple, and hesitated before she delivered the wine to his bedchamber.

“I’ll summon you if I need anything else. Leave now.”

Large silk and velvet cusions surrounded the table. It was located in front of a crackling fire. A thick-piled, luxurious soft looking carpet was spread before the open grate.

Off to the side, one step up, was the luxurious sleeping area. The only separation between his common room and that enormous bed was a room divider of metalwork fashioned into an ornate geometric pattern of eight-pointed stars and circles. She gulped, seeing the bottle of wine and two crystal goblets on the bedside table that the servant had delivered. Deep purple flower petals were strewn over the entire floor of the suite. It was then that she noticed the prince wore no shoes. He was dressed for relaxation and pleasure.

“Shall we recline with a bit of refreshment before dinner?” He nodded towards large silk and velvet cushions on the floor.

From behind a wall, she heard a door close. She didn’t move. 

…but then the prince released a weary sigh and sank onto a large, plush purple cushion on the floor. 

Rose furrowed her brow. “Is everything all right?” she asked. 

“No. Everything is not all right, Miss Tyler.” He released a dramatic breath and stood up with a flourish. “But, I’m going to make sure you are entertained properly. And maybe I will wake up to see the light of another sunrise, head still intact. Won’t you join me for dinner, because I’m starving.” 

Rose nodded silently.

“So,” he replied nervously. “Can I just say something, get it out of the way?” 

“Of course,” she replied. 

“Please do not take this in the wrong way, Rose, because you are a very beautiful woman. Even wearing my favorite color,” he smiled, “but I’m not attracted to you.” 

She smiled, relieved. “And you shouldn’t be. I have a message for you. Your wife is fine, she loves you, and she misses you so, so much.” Rose put as much feeling into the words as she could, knowing exactly what it was to be separated from the one you love. 

“What? What did you just say?” 

“Jana, the girl who dressed me, we found out that we have a common friend, and she asked me to pass you the message. Ferdin, the Doctor and I, we are here to help you. We know there is something going on and Queen Jovdankda, she seems to be in the thick of it.” 

The prince smirked at her mispronunciation of the name, and then his face once again became serious. 

“My sister picked that dress for you, of course. She is under the misguided opinion that throwing a beautiful girl in a provocative dress at me will be enough to entice me to forego my wedding vows, to cheat on my wife.” 

“I don’t understand, why would she want you to cheat on your wife anyway?” 

“Because she is an evil, selfish, jealous bitch, and she hates me because I have found happiness, and she hasn’t.” The prince took a large gulp of wine and set the glass down firmly. 

“Rose, she is not the heir to the throne. I am. But I fell in love with a commoner, and I married her, thereby requiring me to abdicate. But it wasn’t enough for her. Just because I am no longer eligible to rule, does not mean I have no legal say in the rule of the kingdom. She and I do not see eye to eye on most things. Well frankly, anything. Constitutionally, I have veto power, but she has my wife. And as long as my wife is in danger, I must keep my mouth shut.” 

“Why can’t you just change the law or something? Make it okay to be married to a commoner?” 

Ferdin smiled at her simple answer. “It isn’t that easy. If the dogs were still in an advisory role, things would be different. They would have seen reason. They would have been able to convince the legislative body to at least consider a temporary solution, or an exception to the rule. It isn’t the first time that a royal has married outside of royalty. There is precedence, but it has always been subject to a vote. She blocked it, and here we are. Stuck. My wife hidden away somewhere in this ridiculous labyrinth of a castle.” 

“Do you mind if I change? This dress is really drafty,” she laughed.

“I bet the Doctor would like it, though. You and he are obviously together,” he stated plainly. 

“You bet he would!” she grinned, and poked her tongue through her teeth. “Yeah, we are together. We’re married.” She examined the palm of her hand, imagining the invisible bonding mark. “Made vows to each other just a few hours ago.” 

“Congratulations and felicitations,” he said, raising his glass, but then scowled. “And you let him go to my sister? She plays dirty, Rose. Your husband won’t make it out of there alive. She wants him. It’s obvious. And she will have him.” 

“Impossible.”

“You are young. Don’t be naive,” he countered. 

“No, I mean it is literally impossible. We are bonded. Telepathically bonded. He is unable to love another woman, and I can’t love another man.”

He opened his mouth.

“No. Seriously. Literally, physically can _not_...” she raised her eyebrows for a moment. “Besides, he’s different, and I mean really different. He has a few tricks up his own sleeve,” she said one eyebrow raised, half smiling. 

“You know, I think I actually believe you. He seems an uncommon sort of fellow.” 

“You could say that!” Rose stood up and grabbed the satchel. 

The prince motioned at a door, and Rose quickly changed, returning with a few minutes sporting her jeans, purple shirt, hoodie, and trainers. 

“Why don’t you keep the dress,” Ferdin offered. 

“Thanks. I think I will.” She grinned. “I need to go to the kennels. I want to visit the dogs and talk to Jana’s Dad.” 

“That’s forbidden,” he replied. 

“Never stopped me before. Where are they located?” 

“You’ll never make it, Rose. You’ll be caught, and made to disappear.” 

“I’m good at sneaking. Just write the directions down if you don’t want to come along,” she pressed. 

“No. I won’t be responsible for your disappearance.” He crossed his arms defiantly. 

Rose put her hand on her hip. “You know, there was this kid back when I was in school. Really nice kid. But he never stood up for himself. Every day he brought his lunch to school in this brown paper bag. Nothin’ special ‘bout it even. Just a boring old sack lunch, a sandwich and an apple or a banana, but every single day, it was stolen by these mean kids. And they just threw it away. Didn’t even eat it. But he never told no one, and never told ‘em to stop.” Rose sat back down and popped a berry in her mouth. 

“What happened?” 

“He was always hungry.” 

He looked at her, confused. 

“Prince, you need to stand up to your sister. Man up. Take me to the kennels. I need to talk to the dogs.” 

“How can you talk to the dogs?” 

She held up her hands and wiggled her fingers. “I just found out somethin’ ‘bout myself that I never even knew... not until the Doctor and me bonded.” 

“What?” 

“I’m telepathic, by touchin’,” she threw a berry in the air and caught it with her mouth with a smile. 

The prince sighed. 

“You want to be back with your wife, right? You want her safe? You need the dogs on your side. We need to find out why they’re disappearin’, and make it right. Take me to the kennels.” 

The prince stood up, paced a few times nervously. “Let me change into something more suitable for skulking. I do have a bit of experience in sneaking. I visit my wife often. There are a very few guards, mainly the old ones, who are on my side. They’ll help us.” 

“Now you’re talkin’,” she said with a smile, elbowing him in the ribs. “So, don't suppose you got any sort of invisibility cloak do ya?” 

“No, but wouldn’t that be handy?” he said, and then laughed as he jogged away to change. 

He returned quickly. He motioned for Rose to follow him towards the back of his chamber. He pulled on a lantern which was hanging from the ceiling, and a small pocket door slid open, revealing a dark passageway. He pulled a torch out of his pocket, and into the spot-lit darkness they went, the pocket door securely closed behind them. 

The passage smelled musty and damp, and periodically, they heard the scurrying sounds of small animals darting out of their path. Finally after many stairs and ladders, twists and turns, and a few stumbles and one fall into a mucky puddle of which Rose refused to think about the source, they reached a small door. The prince rested his hand on the latch for a moment, drew in a breath and slowly slid the pocket door to the side. 

It looked like an interior stable, but instead of wooden gates penning horses, wrought iron gates separated dogs from freedom, one dog per stall. All were sleeping, curled up on well-worn velvet beds. There were dishes adequately filled with water, and it was warm. And while the conditions were not cruel, neither were these dogs free. They were prisoners. An elderly man slept on a small, low cot in the corner, quietly snoring under his wool blankets. There was a book on the floor, marked where he had ended his nightly reading. 

The prince took one step and then another, quietly approaching the man. Rose followed his quiet example until they reached his side. The prince knelt down and touched the man’s shoulder, gently shaking until he was roused. 

“Renauldo,” he whispered, “it’s me, Ferdin.” 

“Is Penny alright?” were his first words. “Please tell me she is safe.”  
“Yes, she’s fine. I’ve brought someone, she can help us speak to the ambassadors.” 

The man sat up, and Rose realized he was not elderly at all, but prematurely grey, his face presumably lined with worry and fatigue. 

“Hello Renauldo, my name is Rose, Rose Tyler. I I think I can talk to your dogs.” 

“But the queen, she’s blocked the implants with that ring of hers. We haven’t been able to speak properly for months, and they’ve stopped their bark-talkin’ too. It’s like they are depressed. Like they’ve given up.” 

“I don’t have an implant. I’m telepathic,” she said nervously, suddenly unsure if it was really would work, “or at least, my husband says I am, and it’s at least worth a try, yeah?” 

“Yes. It is worth a try.” Rauldo stood up slowly from his cot and produced a large ring of keys. “Not my idea, of course,” he said shaking. “I do my best to keep the dogs safe and to show them we still care. I hope they understand.” 

He opened the unlocked the third pen. “Dame Gertrude, this is Rose Tyler. She says she can speak to you.” 

A honey-colored dog opened her eyes, and raised her head off of her paws. “Wolf. Wolf,” she barked and immediately approached Rose, nuzzling her in the side. 

“Hi Dame Gertrude,” she said haltingly. “I’m new to this telepathic stuff, but I’m going to try, okay?” 

Gertrude nodded her head and sat. Rose kneeled down in front of her, and following the Doctor’s single example from early this morning, placed her hands on the dog’s head. The dog shook her head, and Rose re-positioned her hands until the dog nodded and panted her approval. Rose closed her eyes and furrowed her brow, not quite sure what to do, simply following her instincts. She gasped as suddenly, her mind was inside of the dog’s mind. 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, “I did it! I’m really here!” 

“Rose Tyler, I’m not going to go through much formal introduction. Because we don’t have much time. You and the Doctor, you must save us! That evil queen, that woman is trying to prevent us from breeding, trying to remove the genetic traits which set us apart from simple dogs.” She said it with a bit of distaste, but not outright disdain. 

“How?” 

“She has set a plague upon us, which allows us to breed, but greatly reduces the chances of us producing litters with our special abilities.” 

“Is this plague? Is this what people call the wasting disease? Makes the dogs act crazy, like zombies?” 

“Yes. That is correct.”

“But it’s happening planet wide, how is that possible? Are others as well?” 

“As far as we can ascertain, no. No other kingdoms are involved, however, she has passed the virus along somehow. We believe it has to do with her trade missions. She has traveled extensively since she assumed the throne, and her ascension to power coincides with the beginning of the losses.” 

“But there’ve been rumors for hundreds of years about zombie dogs. Myths. Legends.” 

“She is using the stories to her advantage, to keep the population fearful. To turn them against us.” 

“I don’t understand. What does she have against you? Seems to me, if I was a queen, I’d want all the help I could get,” Rose offered. 

“But you, my dear, are wise to think so. She is not. She is motivated by the oldest reason in the universe. Power. Pure and simple. She has her little kingdom, and wants to rule it with her pretty little iron fist.” 

“Rose! We have to leave now!” Prince Ferdin wrenched her away. 

Rose gasped, as the connection was abruptly severed. Ten guards burst into the kennel room, and quickly apprehended Rose and the Prince. 

“Prince Ferdin Davin Rhodhall Glenshaw of Svaldalusia, you are under arrest for associating with undesirables and treason. Rose Tyler, you are under arrest for trespassing and spying.” 

“What?!” Rose asked, confused.

“I’m so sorry, Ferdin. I can’t risk my sister. She is all I have left. I’m so sorry,” Renauldo called after the pair as they were dragged away. 

Rose saw the poor man sink to his cot, his head in his hands, defeated. 

oOo 

The entire bowl of curry was gone, every last bit of sauce wiped clean. 

“Oh, I do love a good banana, don’t you Doctor?” The queen plucked one banana from the fruit bowl. “Perfect for dessert.” 

“Bananas are brilliant,” the Doctor agreed, truthful. “Here, allow me to peel it for you.” He took it from her hands, peeled the fruit, and handed it back. 

She took a bite, looking at the Doctor with heavy-lidded eyes. 

“You look like you’re enjoying your dessert very much,” he said flirtatiously. 

“Very,” she took a small bite, “much.” She set the banana down demurely. 

“So, Queen,” what do you have against the,” he picked up her banana and took a bite and then continued, “dogs?” 

“I don’t need them. I’m smart enough to rule without them.” 

“Of course you are,” he said half smiling. “But even the most genius ruler accepts wise counsel, Queen.” 

“I don’t like them in my head, so I took measures to make sure they couldn’t communicate with me from the first day of my reign.” 

“Smart,” he said simply. “What sort of measures?”  
“Telepathic dampening field. I can’t have the implanted extracted. Unfortunately, it is an irreversible procedure forced upon me when I was only an infant.” She fingered her ring. 

“Earlier you said you no longer utilize them as advisors. Why the change? Did one of them give bad advice? Set off a border skirmish or worse, a full blown war?” 

“Like I said. I don’t like anyone or anything in my head. I find it disturbing.” 

“Where are the dogs, Queen? I haven’t seen one since our arrival. The original reason I came to Barcelona was because I promised Rose I would show her the noseless dogs. I would hate to break that promise.” 

“Enough talking about those cursed dogs.” Her cool persona cracked a bit as she quietly seethed the retort, but then she clenched her fists, released them, and breathed in and out a few times, seeking composure. “I am the queen. I do as I please, and I don’t share my throne with anyone.” 

The Doctor frowned comically. “Well, I guess I’ve been told,” he said, unruffled. 

“Doctor, I’m really tired of talking about dogs,” she said breathily, “shall we retire to my bedchamber? I do recall you said something about letting me play with your collar.” She fingered his tie. 

“I could use with a bit of a lie down,” he replied with a dirty grin.

He followed her into her bedchamber where she sprawled herself over the jewel-toned silk pillows. 

“Take off your shoes. I don’t want my linens soiled, well, not by shoes anyway,” she said seductively. 

The Doctor laid on the bed next to her, hands folded across his chest, shoes still on. 

“I rather like having shoes on in bed. Better traction,” he said with a growl. “So, Queen Keevie, have the dogs been getting sick or something? I heard rumors down in the city about something called the — wilting? Fading?” he scratched his head. 

“The Wasting. It’s a disease that prevents the dogs from reproducing. Genetically engineered. So I’ve been told.” She sat up, and allowed the single strap of her dress slide off of her shoulder. She looked back at him. “Why don’t you take if off the rest of the way for me?” 

“I rather like to do — _things_ — clothed. Call it a preference,” he said with a gleam in his eye. “Those slits in your dress are rather brilliant. They would offer all sorts of access. That is, if you are daring enough to try more _creative_ positions.” 

“You have a very creative mind, Doctor. I have never have met anyone like you,” she growled, arching her back, and rolling closer to him. She rubbing her bare foot up under the cuff of his trousers. 

“So, aren’t you worried about tourism? Doesn’t that bring in a sizable part of your gross national product? If the dogs are gone, tourists don’t come.” 

“The dogs aren’t going anywhere Doctor, the wasting only targets the telepathic dogs.” 

“Oh. That’s really, really too bad,” he frowned. 

“Well, Queen,” he sat up abruptly and jumped off of the bed. “I think I’m ready to hit the hay. It’s been a very long and well, brilliant day to be honest,” he said directly, all traces of flirtatiousness evaporated. 

“And, queen,” he smirked as he turned on his heel and made want for the door, picking up his coat. “As to the special properties of your revered national dish? My body doesn’t recognize that sort of aphrodisiac. Sell, I will turn that switch on should the occasion arise again, but the only person I will do that for is my wife.” 

“Your wife?” she asked, confused. She pushed the strap of her dress back up her shoulder. Does your wife know about your traveling companion?” she asked, haughtily. 

A slow grin grew on his face. “Oh yes. And I don’t know what game you are playing with me and my Rose, but I promise you–“ 

A guard barged in without knocking. “Queen,” he knelt on one knee until she bid him to rise. “There has been an accident. The prince is dead, along with a young woman. They were seen, err, cavorting on one of the upper palisades. They fell.” 

The Doctor’s head snapped not to the guard, but to the queen, who for the briefest moment, had the smallest of smiles on her face before she pasted on a look of horror. “Has,” she covered her mouth, “has our mother — has the Queen Mother been notified?” 

“No your majesty, not yet. It has only just happened. I came as fast as I could.” 

“Leave. Leave me please,” she said. She began to weep theatrically. “You called her _your_ Rose! The woman with my brother, that was _your_ Rose! Why are you not moved? Are you so cold-hearted?” 

“Oh no, Queen. The last thing I am is cold-hearted. Now where is my Rose?!” He gritted his teeth. 

“I... I don’t know what you mean, Doctor,” she answered with false fear. 

“I know you are lying. Rose and I share a bond. A telepathic link. It is the way of marriage with my people.” 

All shows of mourning evaporated from Jovankava’s face. “Well not anymore you don’t!” She shouted and with a single caress of the ring on the her finger, the warm telepathic presence in the Doctor’s mind, his link to his Rose, dissipated into a quiet hum. 

“What? What have you done?” he shouted.

“Severed your link. Like I said, telepathic dampening field. Guards! Take him to his wife.” 


	13. Ch 12 - Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose takes the prince on an adventure. The Doctor runs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated Mature for a scene of a sexual nature, violence, the threat of non-con sex, and death. (Death does not refer to the main characters.) However, the content is _not graphic_. It is plot-heavy.

Rose Tyler and Prince Ferdin were forced out of the kennels into the cold darkness of night. They found themselves on one of the dizzying exterior corridors which skirted the outside of the palace. The lights of the city far below glowed much more merrily than they should have; they should have been dim with worry for the scene that was being played-out in their palace perched high on the side of the mountain, overlooking their fair city-state. 

"Ya don't have to be so rough, I ain't going nowhere," Rose growled as a guard manhandled her body around one hundred eighty degrees. He grasped her chin, and forced the position of her head so that she was now looking up, one corridor above, to a scene being played out about twenty feet away. 

In the dim, torchlit shadows of the corridor, Rose could just make out the silhouettes of two people, a woman and a man. In the moonlight, the woman's pale skin stood out in contrast to the darker stone against which she was leaning, unusual on this planet of Technicolor skin. She was dressed in a light-colored gown that looked very similar to the one that Queen Jovankava had sent Rose to wear for her ill-fated evening with Prince Ferdin. 

The man was roughly of the same height, build and dark coloration as the prince, and wore clothing similar to that which the prince had been wearing when he had first welcomed Rose into his chambers. 

The man had the woman pressed up against one of the columns lining the edge of the walkway. It was obvious that their encounter was mutually agreeable, given their frantic kisses, and the sounds of their passion, amplified by the stone masonry and rounded architecture. The man's hands greedy hands feverishly roamed all over the over the woman. The pair moaned, and then cried out each others's names as their passion escalated rapidly. 

Rose squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the scene. A guard held a small knife to her throat. "Watch," he growled lustily into her ear. She flushed with anger as she was forced to witness this intimacy being played out before her eyes, a mockery of herself and the prince for much of the palace to see and hear. 

A voice cried out from far above, "No Ferdin! No! No!" She aimed her vision upward saw a woman silhouetted against the light of her open window, a mass of curls atop her head. 

"Penny! That's not me!" Ferdin choked out, before he was silenced by a sword pressed into the base of his neck. 

Someone else entered the scene whom Rose immediately recognized: Jana, the ladies' maid. She cowered in the darkness, watching, frozen like a statue. The scene continued to unfold as two stealthy figures entered the colonnade, dressed in black, nearly perfectly camouflaged in the darkness. With deadly skill, they shoved the lovers over the edge, and silently retreated, their murderous deed accomplished. 

The lovers screamed as they fell through open air. The bodies hit the sharp rocks hundreds of feet below, but Rose did not hear the sound of broken bones as it was overshadowed by the din of blood rushing in her ears. 

Penelope screamed. Jana screamed. Rose began to scream, but a rough hand was quickly clamped over her mouth, catching the sound in its gloved fist. Jana fled the scene, screaming and shouting for help. 

"What is this treachery?" the prince demanded from head of the guard.

The guard straightened to attention as four men strode proudly down the corridor. "His honor the Prosecutor. His honor the Judge. His honor the Executioner," announced the smallest of the four, the herald. 

The Prosecutor spoke first. "Prince Ferdin, you are hereby charged with sedition and harboring an enemy of the queen." The herald handed the prince a letter. It bore his seal, and was addressed in his own handwriting to Baron Felz zin Belnob, Secretary of State, Madrolea. "Open it, your Highness. This is an official certified copy. The original has been delivered to Her Majesty, the Queen." 

"I did not write this," he handed it back to the herald after quickly skimming the piece of correspondence which outlined his plan to dethrone his sister, and promising trade opportunities and compensation in exchange for military support of the neighboring kingdom. It also acknowledged the arrival of two Madrolean operatives, a human female and a mysterious man who calls himself the Doctor. 

"And this woman, of course, is that Madrolean spy," the prosecutor added.

"I ain't no-" Rose began to defend herself but was interrupted once again by the proud man. 

"Her associate, the Doctor, has been apprehended, or will be soon," he added with an evil grin, "and likewise, will be treated as a spy. His weak attempts to drug and seduce the queen were easily thwarted." 

"The Doctor and me, we're not spies! You're barmy! He brought me to Barcelona to see the noseless dogs! When we saw they weren't around, we decided to find out what happened to them and-" 

The judge spoke for the first time. "Rose Tyler, you have been tried and found guilty of spying."

"Trial? When?" she screeched. 

"This is your trial," the judge added with a smirk and continued. "The Doctor will undergo a similar, swift trial, and both you and your associate will be summarily executed at first light." 

"Now silence your tongue, or I will order the guard to cut it out of your mouth," the executioner snarled. "Though I would hate to have you silent prior to your execution. How I do love to hear the begging beforehand, especially from the pretty ones." 

The trio of officials and their herald left, leaving the prince speechless, too shocked to defend himself, the woman next to him, or the Doctor. 

Six guards were assigned to Rose's escort: one on each arm, even though her arms were restrained by the wrist, and attached to a belt, pinned behind her back. There were two guards to the front, and two in the back. One of the guards to the rear had a sword drawn and every few steps, she could feel the cold tip of the blade graze her bare neck, reminding her that he was indeed, still there. 

The prince, was heavily guarded as well, though not restrained. They had another motivation much more effective with which to keep him in check: the safety of his wife. The head of the guard reminded him of a certain lovely, helpless prisoner, hidden away in secret, up in a tower, far from anyone who would hear her screams of anguish. 

"Your Penelope is safe for now, Prince. You try anything foolish, and she will suffer the consequences for your lack of cooperation," the guard threatened. "Although, she thinks you're dead, and an adulterer. I doubt that she would much care right now if someone went to comfort her." 

Rose shuddered as the guards described in detail the plans they had for the woman, but still the prince kept silent. 

During the long walk, Rose tried to send a telepathic message to the Doctor, but there was no reply. She had thought that being telepathic would mean they could talk to each other across distances. That's what it was like in those sci-fi movies and shows on the telly that Mickey had always forced her to watch when they were dating years before. But all she felt was the constant, comforting hum of the Doctor's mind embracing hers. 

They reached a large metal door. The frontmost guard rapped a syncopated knock, and the metal hinges groaned as the door opened, revealing a metalwork spiral staircase that wound its way down into gas-lamplit darkness. The prisoners were pushed through the opening. The group formed a single-file line and began their descent into the dungeon, deep in the dark underbelly of the palace. 

Once they finally arrived they were pushed into adjoining cells, separated by metal grid work walls, fashioned into a repeating geometric pattern. The workmanship would have been considered beautiful in any another setting. There was room to push the tip of the smallest finger through the openings in the metalwork. If one pushed one's face up against the divider and peered through, the interior of the next cell was visible. So while the activities of a prisoner were somewhat obscured, there was not complete privacy. There was something that served as a toilet in the corner next to a sink. A metal bench against the back wall served as a bed, and a thin brown blanket was neatly folded to one end. 

Rose smiled wryly as she surveyed the cell. "No pillow mint?" she joked. 

A guard backhanded her right cheek, and she fell to the stone floor. She looked up at him, her soulful eyes meeting his, cold and black. "Guess this ain't the Ritz," she said, fighting back tears. The Doctor had always told her to try and make an emotional connection should the time come that they were ever incarcerated. Humor was always a good tactic, but not this time. 

He leered at her, raking his eyes up and down her body. "You look like you might be a bit of fun. Pity we could only have one night together." 

The hairs on Rose's neck prickled, but this time, she chose to hold her tongue. 

He crouched down beside her and ran a finger over her cheek, the spot already red and swollen from the blow. "Why not spend your last night of life with me?" he whispered into her ear. "No one need know. Just nod and I'll come back later." 

"Not a chance. I'm taken," she growled in his face. 

He fell back onto his heels to stand. "I wouldn't fall asleep if I were you, witch," he threatened, as he licked his lips hungrily and looked down at her chest. 

The man roughly unbound her hands and he left, slamming the door shut behind him angrily. She rubbed her wrists and swung her arms in circles to relieve the stiffness in her shoulders. 

"Are you all right?" the prince called from the adjacent cell. "He threatened you, didn't he?" 

"Yeah... nothin'... nothing I ain't heard from a drunk bloke at the pub... without the slappin' of course," she said, her voice hitching. "And never in an honest-to-goodness dungeon in a castle run by an evil queen neither." She laughed mirthlessly. "Ya' know, the Doctor and me, we've been in tight spots before. This ain't so bad. Been in worse," she barked another laugh. "At least there isn't a giant razor toothed slug thing hangin' over our heads right now." She thought back to the Game Station, recalling how the Doctor and she had been restrained, at the mercy of the Editor and the Mighty Jagrafess, who had turned out to not be so mighty after all. 

Rose winced. Her cheek was throbbing in earnest now, and she knew the tissues were going through the stages of healing at an accelerated rate. "That guard has a bloody rough hand," she said rubbing her cheek. 

"I'm so sorry you got caught up in this mess." 

Rose heard the prince sigh, and the rattling sound of shaking metal as he sat down and leaned against the divider. She grabbed the rough blanket from the bench and sat herself down, using the blanket as a cushion, mirroring the prince's position so that they could feel each others' warmth through the porous metal screen. 

"Tell me about Penelope," Rose asked. 

"She's... she's wonderful," he answered softly. "And she is going to go through the rest of her life believing I was unfaithful." 

"What does she look like?" Rose asked, trying to change the subject. 

"Her skin is the color of ripe melvafruit. Deep aubergine. And her hair is a shade darker, almost black, but in the light, it glows a deep purple. It's curly... gives her fits when she tries to brush it out the morning," he said wistfully. "When we were kids, she kept it two long plaits. She used to whip me with 'em." 

"Teasing usually means someone likes 'ya. The Doctor and me, we used to tease each other all the time before he finally admitted his feelings to me." 

"When I was nine, I told Penelope I was going to marry her. She laughed at me, so I told her I 

was going to make her do it by royal command." "Bet that went over well. What'd she say to that?" 

"She didn't say anything. She whipped me with one of her braids, then kissed my cheek and ran away." 

"Think I like her," Rose said through a smile. 

"We both practically lived in the kennels back then. When she wasn't in school, and I wasn't being tutored, we were with the dogs." 

"Jana, her niece, told me she loves the dogs," Rose added. 

"Her brother is very protective, Rose. I am not surprised one bit that he turned us in. Honestly, don't know that I blame him. He's lost nearly everyone and everything. Been reduced to jailer of the once proud dogs to whom he used to report. I don't know if he would be able to recover if Penny was taken away too." 

"I'm not mad at him, Ferdin. Exactly," she laughed quietly and then paused for a moment. "Why does your sister hate the dogs so much?" 

He puffed out a breath. "I don't know exactly. She wasn't always this way. Used to be lovely, warm and kind. And then when she was eighteen, my father, the king, took her along on as an official member of a trade delegation. She was so excited, and I was excited for her. She hadn't ever been out of Svaldalusia before, and she wanted so much to see the world. They were going to visit five or six different countries. You know, a goodwill tour, just a little bit of informal trade talks, nothing really intense. My parents wanted to show her off a bit, officially enter her into international royal society." He stopped and Rose could feel him drop his head back against the divider. He was quiet for what felt like ages. 

"I'm still here. Ain't goin' nowhere," she encouraged.  
"The trip was cut short after their visit to Madrolea."  
"The same kingdom I'm supposed to be an MI:6 agent for?" she asked dryly. 

"Yeah. Not a coincidence. Been rumors that they've been spying on us for years." He barked a laugh. "When she came home, she was not the same person who had left. She was distant, afraid of her own shadow, and then she grew moody. And then angry and cruel. I know something happened on that trip. She refused to tell me. Father and mother were completely tight-lipped. Said it was none of my business. Not that I was the heir to the throne or anything," he said sarcastically. "We used to be so close, Rose. Jo and I, we told each other everything. She was my staunchest ally when it came to my secret romance with Penny. Kept our secret for years. Thought it was so romantic. I used to tease her that she'd better get her head out of those romance books she used to read, or else she'd never find someone to live up to her expectations. She covered for us even when we met secretly. Delivered notes. Was our go-between. Lied to mother and father's faces more than a few times. My father would have been furious had he found out." 

"Did he? Find out?" asked Rose. 

"I don't think so. He would've said something to me. He died shortly after the trip. The physician said it was an aneurism. Something had overwhelmed his telepathic implant. Our mother took the throne by right of ascension, but her mind... well... she... you saw her. She's a bit... around the bend. Went crazy shortly after father died. Grief, I think... over whatever happened to Jo, and father's death, it was just too much." 

"What do you think happened to your sister on that trip? Something in Madrolea?" "I have my suspicions, but have no evidence to back them up."  
"What do you suspect?" she encouraged. 

"I think... someone used my sister's telepathic implant to hurt her somehow. I overheard her begging Mother soon after Mother became queen to command the family physician to have it removed. The implants are constitutionally required for royalty, and only the ruling monarch can request excision, and well, Mother refused. Reminded Jo of the constitution, and then went on to say that tradition was even more important than law, and that any pain she had suffered paled in comparison to the greater good of the kingdom. Mother told her to forget what had happened on the trip and to move on. I can still hear her speaking in that ridiculous palace dialect that hasn't been used for two generations. Mother was so tied to tradition." 

Rose frowned as she contemplated all that the prince had shared. 

"Penelope and I secretly married within a week of mother taking the throne. Life is too short, I told her. Look at my father, I said. Penny wanted to wait, wanted to go through channels. Make it legal and constitutionally binding. Jo and I were barely on speaking terms by then, but we put up a front for Mother, and I did confide in her of my marriage. Thought she'd be happy for us, that it might soften her, remind her of better days. I was wrong. When the advisors recommend to the Assembly that Mother should be declared unfit for the throne, Jovankava immediately gave the evidence of my marriage to the Assembly. I was stripped of the right of ascension, and she was immediately crowned. All connection to the dogs was severed overnight, and soon after that, they started to get sick and disappear. It's been fifteen years Rose. Fifteen wasted years. I haven't done one thing of importance-" 

"But both of you, you and your sister! You look so young! Seriously? It's been fifteen years?" Rose interrupted, purposefully halting his downward spiral. 

"Barcelonan genes," he said with the first hint of lightness in his voice. "How old are you?" "Twenty-one." 

"Too young to be stuck down in this vile dungeon. How old is the Doctor? The myths say he's ancient, and can change his face. But really, how old is he? The Great Dalekanian Threat was... about four hundred years ago if I remember my history lessons..." 

"Not sure how long it's been for the Doctor since the War. Plus there's the whole time travel thing. I do know this he is in his third body since the war. I think I met him just after he lost his people and regenerated. He doesn't talk about it much," she said quietly. 

"Well, he does appear to be quite a bit older than you." 

"Oi! He doesn't look that old! And he's gorgeous, and believe me, he doesn't act old." She laughed and then winced again at the pain in her cheek. "But yeah, you are right. He's old. Really old. And when I say old, I mean old," she dragged out the word. 

"What do you parents think of the age gap? Do they approve?"  
"Dad's dead. Never knew him, though I did meet him once... didn't turn out well..." "Huh... how...?" he asked, confused. 

"Time travel thing. Anyway, he died when I was just a baby. Mum raised me on her own. Mum likes the Doctor. Well, this him. Couldn't stand him in his last body, though." 

"How do you manage? Time travel, changing bodies..."  
She thought for a moment. "I can't imagine my life without him." "How'd you meet the Doctor?"  
"That's... a long story."  
"I have all night..." 

Rose told him about her boredom on Earth, meeting the mysterious man in the basement who saved her from living shop window dummies, their travels in time and space and a few of their adventures. She told of their separation, and how he had regenerated while they were apart. 

"So I wake up from this coma after bein' out of it for almost a year, and I feel fine. Well at least, I thought I had been in a coma. Actually, I had been in hiding, but I didn't know that at the time, and Mum just told me I was in a coma... but that's sort of irrelevant innit? So I come-to, totally fine. But I can't remember a thing since the Christmas before - Christmas is this... this big winter holiday on earth." She waved her hands in emphasis. "I know I need to do something, can't just mope about missin' the Doctor for the rest of my life, so I go out and get a job. And guess who I end up working for?" 

"Let me guess. The Doctor." 

"You're a quick one, aren't ya'? He knew who I was, of course. But that man, he lets me work for him for two whole weeks before I figure it out. Never says a word. I kept thinking I knew him from somewhere, or at least recognized him. And then he started doing things that started triggerin' memories. He'd let somethin' slip, a familiar phrase or the way he liked his tea. And bananas. He has a thing for bananas. And then one day, I swore I heard his sonic screwdriver. His sonic - he has this tool, this thing, nothing like it anyplace and it has a really recognizable sound, and then it hit me. I had seen him on Christmas Eve, before I lost my memories. I had heard his sonic that day, and had seen him from a distance." 

"You remembered some man from a whole year before?" 

"He did something that was sort of hard to forget. Was arguing with a police officer on one of the busiest motorway bridges in London. He jumped out of his car, abandoned it and just took off runnin' like a madman, blockin' Christmas Eve traffic for miles." 

"Has a flair for the dramatic then?"  
She laughed and nodded. "Yeah. He isn't shy, that's for sure. And then the Syrocrax came–" "Sycorax..?" 

"Big ugly alien spaceship parked over the city. He was runnin' to help take care of the problem, though I didn't know it of course. And... that was the last thing I remembered until I woke up three weeks ago. Still don't know what happened those eleven and a half months." She stopped for a moment to collect her thoughts. 

"So you remembered him from a year before, and you were working for him for a couple of weeks..." 

"Now I understand why he didn't tell me. He was slowly earning my trust, easing me into things. Remember, I didn't know anything about the whole new body thing. Started goin' out for dinner every night, and when we were at work, we were talkin', hardly workin'. And... I fell in love with the Doctor all over again, not even knowin' he was the same person." She laughed merrily. "So I invite him for Christmas dinner with Mum and me, and then, well, my mum sort of... arranged for us to... kiss. There's this Christmas tradition. Ya' hang this little leafy twig thing from the ceiling... s'called mistletoe. If you're caught under it, ya' have to kiss. So she tricks us into gettin' caught under it, and Mum nags us into a kiss. And... we do, and I could feel his hearts. He has two of 'em, humans only have one," Rose blushed as she shared this private moment out loud. "And his skin, it's colder than mine, and I remembered that about the Doctor from before, so it was pretty obvious he wasn't human. And then I saw his sonic inside of his suit coat, right where he used to always keep it before. I even accused him of stealing it from the Doctor. I was so thick. The answer was right in front of me, and I just couldn't connect the dots. He did what he could to get me ta' figure it out, and finally, I did. I figured it out, and right away his TARDIS appeared. That's his ship. So here we are. Finally on Barcelona like he'd always promised. Married and... separated... both of us condemned to death. Just another normal day in the life of Rose Tyler and the Doctor," she said with a laugh followed by a sigh. 

"That is a quite a story, Rose, even though I didn't follow half of it! Very romantic," the prince laughed. 

"You're quite the romantic yourself, aren't you?" she observed with a giggle. 

"Too much so." The prince cursed, and slammed his fist against the divider. The TARDIS allowed the word through her filter, to Rose's amusement. "None of this would have happened had I not been... so selfish. I should have listened to Penny. Listened to my canine my advisor. She even warned me not to marry Penelope. Told me to think of my duty first. Said I should wait. Bring a petition to the Assembly. To do it the right way. The wise way." 

"Love is never easy, or simple," Rose said softly. 

"But even if the assembly had rejected our proposal, there were other ways we could have been together while I retained the throne. Safe ways, accepted even. She could have been my mistress, or concubine. Not ideal, but better than this! I could have married that princess from Volmonz, she wasn't so bad. She would have understood. Her parents have a similar arrangement, everyone knows about it. It's not so uncommon amongst us royals..." 

"Camilla." Rose snorted a laugh. "Trust me. It doesn't work." 

"How can you take this so lightly?" he shot angrily. "We wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be here. You would be happily off with your husband doing... married things! Not in a dim, cold cell listening to my undignified whinging." He sighed and shifted his back against the metal grating. 

Rose decided it was time to change the subject. "Ferdin, you said there were a few guards that you still trusted. Do you think any of 'em would help us? Get us out of here? We could find the Doctor, and he could get you to Penelope to safety. To another kingdom or even off-world, until it was safe to bring you back." 

"I haven't seen any that I trust." 

"That guard, the one that slugged me, he threatened to come back tonight and... well, you know," she reminded him dramatically. 

"I won't let that happen, Rose." 

"And how are you going to do that from the other side of a wall, Ferdin? We should be coming up with a plan, not chit-chattin'. The Doctor would know what to do. He'd have us out of here by now." Rose stood up and began to pace, suddenly restless. "When is the change of the guard?" 

"Well I don't know. How should I know?" he replied, defensively. 

"Excuse me!" Rose pounded on the door with the flat of her hand. The metal clanged and rumbled. "Excuse me, I'm thirsty. I need water." 

"What are you doing?" Ferdin sprang to his feet and hissed through the grate. She ignored him. 

"'Ello? Anybody out there? I need some water. Gonna pass out if I don't get some soon..." she called out dramatically. 

"Hold on, hold on, I'm coming." Keys jangled and boots shuffled as the duty guard approached. A smaller door at his head level opened, and the guard peered in. Rose peered through the screen and noted that his posture was slightly stooped, his hair was faded and streaked with age. 

"Didn't the evening shift give you anything to drink?" he asked, incredulous. 

"No! They didn't. And after the day I have had, I think it's the least you can do for me," she replied casually, smiling. "Don't want to go to the gallows thirsty... or to the firing squad, or chopping block. Yikes! Or whatever you do here to secretly execute perfectly innocent women on their honeymoon." 

"Whattya in for anyway?" he asked, squinting as he examined her youthful face. "Trollock, is that you?" asked Ferdin.  
"Who's there? Is that you Your Highness?" 

"Yes, it's me, it's Ferdin," he replied. "Apparently I stepped over some invisible line in the sand that Jo's has drawn, and ended up down here. Not even sure what I did. She's accusing me of sedition, and Rose and her husband are falsely accused of spying for Madrolea. None of it is true, Trollock. She had two people murdered who were dressed like us just to give the appearance that we had fallen to our deaths. You have to believe us," pled the prince through the screen. 

"Well I believe you. Never have known you to be dishonest one, not like your sister, but there isn't anything I single thing I can do about it. You are both scheduled for execution in the morning." 

"Execution... so it isn't a bluff then. Can't you see man? Jovankava has gone off her nut!" shouted Ferdin. 

Rose remained silent through the heated exchange as an odd feeling overtook her. She gasped as she felt a twang in her mind, which was quickly replaced by a dull ache. 

"What's wrong?" asked the prince as she groaned, and called for the Doctor in a language which he did not understand. 

"Rhhoooozzzz, talllz meeee twaaasta vroooong?" he asked again, his words garbled and twisted until they were hardly understandable to her ears. 

He peered through the screen and saw her on the floor, on her side, curled in a ball. A feeling of overwhelming loneliness rushed into her being. The warm hum in her mind, the feeling of love and safety, the link with the Doctor was not gone, but it was pressed down and smashed into a deep, dark corner. 

"My head, it's... it's killing me!" she moaned, though he did not understand her cries, as she spoke in her native tongue, the TARDIS ceasing to translate for a moment. 

"Trollock, can't you see? There's something wrong with her! She's speaking gibberish! She needs medical attention!" 

"I can't risk it Your Highness." 

"Captain Trollock, I am ordering you..." He stopped himself. "No, I am asking you, man to man, husband to another husband, could you sit and watch your wife suffer like that? She has done nothing. Nothing... to warrant this treatment!" The prince veritably begged. 

"Of course not. But what can I do? The queen has... she has my wife, too, your highness." "Locked up?" 

"No. But may as well be." The guard's face softened for a moment. "The queen, she holds all of our loved ones as... as hostage," he said under his breath. "I am sorry, Prince. I will offer my condolences to your wife. I will make sure that she knows you were not the one who was murdered." With that, he left. 

Rose groaned, pulled herself off of the floor and crawled back to the common wall. "Ferdin, something... has... happened to... the Doctor I... think. I can... hardly feel... him. He may be... hurt... or... worse. Please... don't regenerate Doctor. Not... yet. Not so... soon. We've only just found each other! I can't lose you... not again!" 

Ferdin watched her, helpless, no longer understanding her words, unable to communicate with the woman for whom he felt responsible. He listened to the strange song she sang, both beautiful and terrifying. 

Rose hugged her legs and rested her forehead on her knees. She concentrated on the small glimmer of warmth far in the back of her mind. She nurtured it, kept it alive. Over and over she sang the Doctor's name, his real name, both from her lips and in her mind, as she waited for something, anything, to happen. 

oOo 

"You called her your Rose! Why are you not moved? Are you so cold-hearted?" 

"Oh no, Queen. The last thing I am is cold-hearted. Now where is my Rose?" He gritted his teeth. 

"I... I don't know what you mean, Doctor," she answered with false meekness. 

"I know you are lying. Rose and I share a bond. A telepathic link. It is the way of marriage with my people." 

All shows of mourning evaporated from Jovankava's face. "Well not anymore you don't!" She shouted and with a single caress of the ring on the her finger, the warm telepathic presence in the Doctor's mind, his link to his Rose, dissipated into a quiet hum. 

"What? What have you done?" he shouted. 

"Severed your link. Like I said, telepathic dampening field. Guards! Take him to his wife." 

The poison words stung the Doctor's ears as he realized that the queen was now speaking Svaldish punctuated with Gallifreyan, and the murmuring words of the guards were only being partially translated in his mind as well. He could feel the TARDIS straining to maintain her connection with her Time Lord. She was too strong for the link to be broken, and while the translation was distorted and wavering, she held firm, sustaining their link against the ebb and flow of the dampening field. 

A vacantness, a feeling of loss almost like a shadow fell over the Doctor. Where the sun once warmed him to his core, a dark loneliness began to seep in held only at bay by the tentative whisper of her mind just out of reach of his mental embrace. The feeling of the loss of the full connection with his wife, his Rose, immediately hardened his heart to Queen Jovankava's actions and strengthened his resolve. There would be no second chances. 

"Or maybe your Rose won't have you, now that she believes you have given into my seduction," the queen taunted. 

The Doctor understood her perfectly, not needing the TARDIS translation circuit as Svaldish was in his catalogue of languages. 

The Doctor straightened his back, tilted his chin upward and offered a small, but terrifying hint of the wrath to come. "You foolish, foolish hravestha," he said, calling her the vilest Gallifreyan epithet he knew. The TARDIS didn't make an effort to block it choosing for her Time Lord, this one time, to translate it into Svaldish. "You just made your final mistake, because you just said the name that keeps me fighting. No one... NO ONE hurts my Rose!" 

With gritted teeth and superior Gallifreyan biology on his side, the Doctor flung the guards off of his arms and did what he did best: he ran, and he ran as fast as he could out of the queen's chambers, slamming the door behind him and welding it shut with his sonic. For good measure, he changed the setting and knocked out the gas lines as well, extinguishing the gas lamps that provided the light to her apartments. He heard her anger from behind the door and the futile banging of spears and fists against the metal as the guards attempted to free their queen from her impromptu prison. 

He sought the small glimmer of warmth in his mind. Rose was his beacon. Though greatly diminished, the bond remained intact. And then he heard her calling his name, his real name, singing it to him, calling for him. With all of his mental effort reached out to her, and sent a flicker of comfort, enough to let her know he was still there, that he was coming for her. 

Continuing his flight, he pulled his sonic out of his pocket, felt for the setting that he needed, and held it over his head like an Olympian carrying the torch. The timelines were on his side as he careened his way through the maze of halls. He ran headlong into a servant, knocking a parcel out of the startled man's hands. Anger brewed in his mind as he thought of his wife, held somewhere in this labyrinth, his connection to her all but severed save the sound of her singing his name. He took the sonic and held it against the innocent man's head. With a voice as cold as ice, he spoke. "Tell me where the prisoners are kept, or I'll liquify your brain." 

"I don't understand you, foreigner, speak Svaldish, for the Maker's sake!" 

The Doctor repeated the question, easily falling into the native language, this time adding an extra helping of Oncoming Storm to his inflection. 

"I... I don't... know... down... underneath somewhere. Ask a guard! I don't know!" The man was terrified, and cowered before the Time Lord. 

The Doctor growled in frustration at the man's ignorance, but the terror in his voice didn't go unnoticed, and the warmth of Rose's mind swelled again, bringing him back from the far edge of reason. 

He gained a modicum of control, lowered his sonic, and moderated the tone of his voice, though he increased the urgency. "Is there a... a passageway the servants use? Usually these old places have backstairs... something! It is a matter of life and death!" 

"Yes... through that door there... pay attention to the maps on the walls or else you'll get lost. It's a mess. No one uses 'em anymore." 

"Brilliant! Now forget I was here." The Doctor sonicked the door open, and plunged himself into the darkness, honing in on his pink and yellow beacon. 


	14. Ch 13 - Ditching the Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor finds his Rose.

The dark, damp tunnels were labyrinthine in their complexity. The characters of the so-called mapping system that the servant had told the Doctor to be sure not to ignore were nonsensical, childish even. More than once he tugged at his hair and pounded the walls in frustration at the symbols and pictograms, which appeared to have been designed by a toddler who had got his hands on a jumbo-sized bag of jelly babies, and was suffering the aftereffects of sugar intoxication. He never had been very good at this sort of thing. Complex? Easy peasy. Simple? Well... 

And then it dawned on him. They were designed for servants who could not read. They were dead simple, not complex, so a triangle pointing right meant the follow the tunnel to the right, and two triangles pointing left indicated to follow the path two branches left. He quickly figured out that was the instruction for go straight past two branches when he almost stepped off into a 300 foot pit. And then he found this: left pointing triangle, | : right pointing triangle. 

"Take the left, go straight, hmmm... knock twice? Jump up and down twice? Second door! That's it! The second door is safe if I need to leave the passageway, or else, continue on and turn right." 

Once the code was cracked, he quickly wound his way downwards. Far in the distance, he heard the sound of drunken singing. Some poor sod was lamenting while playing some sort of stringed instrument, very badly, too. The Doctor winced at the lack of vocal prowess that was assaulting his ears. A second voice joined the first; a decidedly non-human voice. 

"Is that... a dog?" he said to himself with a smirk, and then picked up his pace, jogging towards the source of the mournful music. A large, ornate door was the only thing shielding him now from the offensive vocalizations. He tested the door, and finding it slightly ajar, nudged it open a bit further to peek through the crack. 

A small purple-skinned man was clumsily strumming a ten-stringed instrument, similar both in sound and appearance to a Russian balalaika, though this instrument was both larger and produced a richer sound. He sang a song of regret, of loss, and of the glory days of the kingdom, the days when dogs and Svaldadilusians walked hand in paw in peace and harmony. 

The song ended, and the Doctor entered the room, clapping slowly. "Bravo. Lovely. Truly lovely," he said sarcastically. "So I assume I've found the famed royal kennels, then?" 

"Whoareyou? Whattyadoininhere? Ssss'forbidden." The man slurred his words, drunk, drowsy and depressed. 

"I'm the Doctor. Who are you?" he asked, hands in pockets, walking slowly towards the pair. 

The man was seated on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning up against a wall. A large honey-colored dog was stretched out by his side, and was resting her head in the drunk man's lap. 

"I'mnoooobody... M'justthedogkeeper. Keeperofthedogs, that'ssmeee," he replied with a sorrowful smile. He patted the dog's head fondly. 

"And you are...?" the Doctor asked the dog directly. "Gert. Rude." 

"Nice to meet you Gert Rude. May we speak?" The Doctor gestured, tapping his fingers against his own temples to demonstrate his request. 

"Yes. Yes." 

The Doctor crouched down and carefully placed his hands on the dog's temples. 

"My name isn't Gert Rude you imbecile! Who has the name Gert. Rude? I should have thought the Doctor would be a bit brighter than you. I'm Dame Gertrude, advisor to the rightful heir to the throne of Svaldalusia. That ridiculous bark speech is absolutely inadequate. It's demeaning." 

The Doctor made a happy sound in the back of his throat. "You sound like Maggie Smith." The dog barked, irritated. 

"Right. Dame Gertrude, I'm hoping you might be able to help me. I'm trying to find Rose Tyler and Prince Ferdi–" 

"First things first Doctor, you have finally come to save us! Queen Jovankava... That... woman... Oh why can't I come up with a better insult?" 

"Hravestha?" The Doctor showed her an image involving the queen on her knees, a latrine, and a toothbrush. 

"Yes. That will do," she replied. "That hravestha has drugged us, blocked our telepathy, prevented us from furthering our kind, separated us from the few pups which do happen to be born, and telepathic or not they are still our offspring... and... locked us up in these dank cells. I haven't seen the light of day in I don't know how many subcycles!" 

"Yes, yes, yes, it's been bad and horrible. Tell me something I don't know," he replied rudely. 

"I thought you would care about our plight. Obviously you are here for other reasons," she replied with self-righteous disdain. 

"Of course I'm here for you. I just can't stand to hear... nattering. Get to the point. I'm a busy man. Things to do, people to save, dogs to save, hmmm?" 

"The famous Doctor. You are certainly not what I expected. I always imagined you to be a great warrior of the likes of Galmadog or Relexantoiran the Brave, but you are just a skinny twig who has bad taste in shoes and uncontrollable hair. You don't even groom yourself properly." 

"Oi! I groom! I groom a lot! I've been told, very recently in fact, that I have really great hair." 

"Well then that person who complimented your hair has dubious taste as well." She harrumphed. "I'm sorry," she apologized while retaining her pride, "I have become... tetchy in my old age. All of this... drama has made me lose my sense of propriety. And... if you are half the man that the stories purport, I suppose I have to trust you." She conceded. "Besides, your TARDIS told me you had come to help us. I think the others in the pack know as well, though I can't confirm with them but through that ridiculous mono-syllabic... barking," she huffed, regaining a bit of the fire from before. 

"My TARDIS spoke with you as well?" 

"As well?" she probed. 

"I met one of your pack yesterday. Horatio. He directed us here." 

"You... you've seen my Horatio? You've... spoken to him?" she asked with hopeful hesitance. 

"Yes. He is living with Miss Minchin down in the city. She told me he's been living with her for fifteen grand cycles." 

"Well... that's... that's just wonderful news," she said with the heartfelt, though self-restrained joy, as if she were afraid to feel hope. "Tell me, does Minchin treat him well?" 

"Like royalty. They are still connected. Doesn't look like the dampening field reaches all the way into the city. Do you know where the queen keeps the dampening field generator that's been blocking telepathic communication?" 

"No, unfortunately, I don't know where that foul woma–that hravestha's demon device is located. It must be near, as the pain is greatest when I am here in the kennel, as they dare to call these cells. The few times we are allowed to leave the kennels, the pain diminishes, though we still cannot communicate fully. We can feel emotions and once in a while a word or two, perhaps a phrase, will slip through..." 

"I'm going to sort this, Gertrude. I promise." 

"Thank you Doctor. And... I'm glad Horatio is not alone," she said, softly. 

"He's a good... dog. He's your mate isn't he?" 

"Yes, he is. Did he... mention me? I assume you spoke with him properly?" 

"Yes we did. Had a rather nice conversation to be honest. I'm sorry, Gertrude, he didn't mention you. But... he did say this used to be his home." 

"He did? Oh. Well. That's... something," she said, attempting to hide her disappointment. "It's all right to be disappointed, you know, Gertrude." 

"Seems to me that you have had quite a bit of practice restraining your emotions, Doctor. I see that only recently you have taken a mate. You've chosen well. The Wolf is a worthy match. And... you've mated with her recently. Several times I'd say." 

"Oi! Mind your own business! That's rude!" he said, self-consciously. 

She laughed. "Bipeds and their need for privacy when it comes to something so fundamental and basic as mating," the dog chuckled. "She is... very fond of you Doctor." 

"She's more than just fond," he replied smugly, self-consciousness lost. "Hey how do you know how Rose thinks about me?" he asked suddenly. 

Gertrude tittered a laugh. "We conversed. She was rather crude in her establishment of the telepathic link, but it was an excellent first attempt at touch telepathy." 

"She tried telepathy," he said, chuffed with pride. "That's my Rose!" 

"It has been so long since I have been able to communicate properly. Such a relief to converse in a-" 

"Do you know where the dungeons are?" the Doctor interrupted impatiently. 

"I most certainly do not! Such a vile place. Why would I be privy to that information!" she replied, affronted. 

"You're Prince Ferdin’s dog right?" 

"Well of course I am. Just look at my pedigree! I am of the royal line of Lady Hortensia of Barcelona, Consort to the Third Canine Regent!" She displayed her blood lines back generations. 

"Sorry Lady Gertrude. If you are the prince's dog, wouldn't you do anything to keep him safe? Hmmm? Even speak about something so vile as a dungeon?" 

"Well, when you put it that way. I still don't know, but Ranauldo will. If he ever sobers up, that is. Poor man... You should make your attempt to secure your mate and my prince soon. We heard a commotion soon after they were stolen away. Screaming, yelling, that sort of thing. The guards are known for their ribald behavior. I can't imagine what they do to those in their custody." 

The Doctor gritted his teeth at the thought, and then prepared to retract his mind, when the dog spoke one last time. 

"It's been two cycles or so since the guards came and took both she and my lovely prince away." "Why didn't you say something before?" The Doctor's anger surged at the revelation. 

"No need to shout, Doctor! I am a lady, after all! How does she put up with you? You are a rude man!" 

"Oh yes, Getrude, I am rude, angry and I am the Oncoming Storm and I will find my wife, and no one will stop me. If anyone tries, they will see just how rude I can be," he seethed. 

Dame Getrude cowered. "The myths are true then. You are... terrifying! Please don't be too hard on my friend Renauldo here. He has already lost so many, he can't lose Penelope too. I'm sorry, I really am. We have all lost so much and so many loved ones. Everyone has made sacrifices. I truly hope that your mate is not added to the rolls of those murdered by Queen Jovankava." She closed off her mind and erected a wall, terrified of the Doctor's burning anger. 

"What do you mean don't be hard on him? What did he do?" He asked the dog, his jaw set. "Show. Mer. Cy," barked Dame Gertrude. 

The Doctor turned to the nearly incoherent man. "Renauldo, you will tell me where they have taken my wife!" 

"Theytookyourwife...she'llbedeadbeforedawn. Sosososorry..." he replied sloppily after taking another generous swig of amber-colored liquid. 

The Doctor roughly grabbed the bottle from the man's hand and turned the bottle upside down. The bottle gave up its liquid onto the stone floor with a glug, glug, glug. 

"Heywhat'dyadothatfor?" protested Renauldo.

The Doctor reached deep into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a piece of hard candy wrapped in red cellophane. Remembering Gertrude's admonishing words, he reached deep for self restraint, and feeling Rose calling his name, he softened a bit. "Here. Have a sweet." He unwrapped it, and shoved it into the man's mouth. Renauldo's reflexes were slow and before he could refuse, it was already down his throat. The Doctor saw a carafe of water and a glass, and poured the man a generous tumbler-full. "You'll be needing this," he said, handing him the water. 

"Oh... great gallumping ghost of the Maker, I feel sick..." he muttered rubbing his head. 

"Give it a tic and you'll be fine, well when I say fine, I mean coherent," said the Doctor while the man recovered, thanks to the remedy from Felspoon. 

"So you're the Doctor, then? The famous Doctor of myth and legend. Of which our ancestors sing and folk songs regale. Here in my humble kennels. So, what can I do for you?" the man asked flatly clutching his throbbing head. 

"Where is my wife? Gertrude here says that she and the prince were here a while ago," he asked, hands in pockets to hide his clenched fists, doing his best to restrain the full force of his anger. 

"Oh. Well then. I'll just have to ask you to leave. The prince and your... wife have been... detained, and I won't risk–" 

"Detained? That's what you call it?" The Doctor lost any sympathy that he had for the man as he shouted the question, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him to his feet. "You will tell me what happened right now, and you will tell me everything!" 

The man's eyes bulged in terror as the Doctor pulled him off of the ground by the collar and up to his face, leaving just his toes skimming the floor. 

"She would have killed Penny!" "Who's Penny?" asked the Doctor. 

"Penelope is my sister. My sweet, innocent sister. The prince married her in secret and is now she paying the price for his selfishness, that's who!" 

"So that's his secret! I knew there was something." The Doctor hissed as he shook the poor man a bit. 

"It's been two cycles! Maybe two and a half since the prince and that woman... your wife... were taken... I can't know for sure. I felt so... guilty that I got drunk as fast as I could... I'm so sorry, Doctor. I had no idea you and she... that woman and you... I'm... I'm so sorry..." Renauldo broke down completely and the Doctor released him, disgusted at his cowardice. 

"What else? I need to know every little detail. Nothing can be overlooked!" 

"I... I peeked out the door. There held a trial right there in the corridor. They sentenced your wife to death for spying. Said you are a spy too, and would be captured as well, and you would both be executed at first light. And then... then there was a commotion... something about people falling from the level above... and I heard Penny scream from her room up in the tower and... and Penny thinks Ferdin is dead! They'd made it look like your wife and the prince were... engaged in... relations. Penny thinks that... that Ferdin was unfaithful," he stuttered. 

The Doctor grabbed his hair and pulled in frustration as he felt timelines shifting. "This is not good. This is very, very bad. Penelope has to know that Ferdin wasn't with my wife. She's going to do something... I don't know what, but something... it's going to change the history of this country, and this planet. I can assure you, I know for a fact that she has not been unfaithful 

with the prince." 

"How can you possibly know that your wife is true to you? How can any man know? And what do you mean Penny is going to do something-" Renauldo asked, genuinely confused. 

"I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord, remember?" he replied, tipping his chin proudly. "And I know my Rose. My bond mate. My beloved." 

"Y...yes," he stuttered. 

The Doctor quickly shifted his posture and squinted his eyes and frowned as he felt timelines continue to shift. "I have to find Rose. I have to find the prince. I have to find Penelope. But I can't do it all three alone. Not enough time. I'm good, but not that good." He paced wildly, muttering and running his hands through his hair. "Think think think!" 

"I'll help," Renauldo said quietly. 

The Doctor ignored him and continued to mutter. "I can still feel Rose. She's calling for me. I know she's still alive. But Penelope? Things are going wrong. Fast." He snapped his fingers. "Renauldo, you have to get word to Penelope. She has to know that her husband wasn't unfaithful. She needs proof that he's still alive." He turned to the man. "You need to go to her, take her someplace safe, and I need to get to the dungeons and free Rose and the prince. I'll bring Ferdin to her. Kiss, kiss, hug, hug, timeline restored." 

"I said I'd help," he repeated himself, quietly. 

The Doctor began to leave, leaving the dumbstruck man, feet frozen to the floor. He turned back, "Come on then, what you waiting for? An engraved invitation? I promise I'll send you one when I get back to the TARDIS. We need to move. Now." 

The man blinked a few times, squeezed his fists open and shut, swallowed hard and without a word, followed the Time Lord into the darkness of the passageways. 

oOo 

Rose hugged her legs and rested her forehead on her knees. She concentrated on the small glimmer of warmth far in the back of her mind. She nurtured it, kept it alive. Over and over she sang the Doctor's name, his real name, both from her lips and in her mind, as she waited for something, anything, to happen. 

Prince Ferdin stood up, and pounded on the metal grating of the cell wall. The metallic clanging echoed throughout the otherwise empty dungeon. "Trollock! You come back here right now! I... I command you as rightful King to release us!" 

Trollock shuffled back. "Stop that racket! The guards will hear you! Only reason they aren't here is because a group of prostitutes arrived an hour ago." 

"At least that will keep them away from Rose. One of them threatened to come back and have his way with her tonight." 

Trollock opened the small viewing hatch, peered in at Rose, who was curled in a ball, now on her side. 

"What is she singing?" he asked.  
"I don't know. One minute she was fine, the next I could barely understand a word she was 

saying, and she started... singing. 

"That song. It frightens me. There's something about it. It's ancient and fearsome. Who is she?" Trollock asked, entranced by the song. 

"She's Rose Tyler. She's the Doctor's wife." 

"Did you say she's married to the Doctor? The Doctor? The one who saved our planet from the Daleks? Why didn't you say something you foolish boy!" He growled and nervously fished for his keys, immediately releasing the prince from his cell, and then unlocking Rose's door. He rushed in, and scooped the limp woman into his arms. It was as if the name of the Doctor had strengthened him, given him the resolve he needed to fight. 

The prince followed him, a bit helplessly. "I'm sorry, I didn't think to. I was so wrapped up in my predicament–" 

"If I may be so bold, Prince, you have been wrapped up in one predicament after another since the day you were born." He spat the words as he carried Rose out of the cell. "Time to get your eyes off of yourself and start thinking about this country. No, this planet! If any harm comes to her, the last thing you will be worrying about is your royal neck. You'll be begging for death. Didn't you study your history Prince?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Or were you so busy mooning over that Penelope woman, as wonderful as she may be," he huffed and puffed as he hurried along carrying Rose, "that you missed the part about the Doctor?" 

"I honestly thought he was just a legend... it was so long ago... it didn't seem... relevant." 

"Your history, the history of his nation, Prince, it is everything! Your mother understood that! Your father did too! And for all of the mistakes that they made, especially when it came to the assault on your sister, they understood! They would never have taken the Doctor so lightly! He is the Oncoming Storm! The Destroyer of Worlds. And I promise you, Prince Ferdin, I pity the man, woman, beast who stands between him and this woman." 

Rose's song crescendoed in volume and intensity as they progressed deeper into the dungeon, farther from the spiral staircase down which they had descended. 

"Where we going Trollock?" the prince finally asked after a long, heavy silence. 

"The passageways." 

"But we'll get lost! Not even the guards risk the passageways! There are... creatures in there..." 

"Afraid prince? Not a very becoming trait for the monarch. Perhaps it is better that your sister is on the throne," he taunted, not meaning a word of it. 

"Hold your tongue, Captain, I may be ruined, but I am still royalty," he charged unconvincingly. 

"It's the only way, Prince." He halted before an ancient metal door. "Your choice. Come with me, or stay here and face at best, a life of torture and solitude down here, forgotten, hidden away. Because to the rest of the palace, you are already dead... Remember? They staged your death, prince. No one will come looking for you." 

The prince shuffled his feet nervously. 

"Or... come with me into the tunnels, but decide right now, because I'm not waiting any longer, and I will be locking the door behind me." Trollock maneuvered the cradled Rose in his arms so that he could open the door. It creaked and groaned as he leaned into it heavily, pushing it open with all of his strength. Without a second glance backwards, he entered the tunnels. 

Swallowing hard, the prince followed. 

"Good man. Now close that door and slide the latches. There's a torch on the wall. Light it. I have a lighter in my back pocket." 

The prince retrieved the lighter device and ignited the pitch-dipped torch. It blazed to life with a whoosh of flame, lighting up the passageway. 

"Carry her, I need to decipher the map symbols." 

The prince took Rose from the man's arms. Rose's song suddenly increased in volume and intensity, as the Doctor emerged from the darkness, and Trollock stopped in his tracks. 

Rose opened her eyes and her song crescendoed almost painfully. She jumped out of the prince's arms and jumped into the Doctor's arms. The Doctor swung her around, squeezing the breath out of her and then set her down, grabbed her head and kissed her ferociously. 

Captain Trollock and the prince averted their eyes until the kiss broke. The Doctor and Rose were breathing hard, stroking each others arms, their foreheads touching. Rose had tears in her eyes, but the Doctor quickly wiped them away with his thumb. "It's all right. It's all right my love." 

"Nice snog," she panted into his ear, still gulping for air. 

"Most effective way to strengthen our bond, well... there is one way that is more effective, but I didn't think you'd appreciate it much if I ripped off your clothes and shagged you right here against the stone wall." 

"Doctor! You said shag! I don't think I've ever heard you say that! Before you know it, you'll be saying f–" 

The Doctor covered her mouth so that she said the crudity into his hand, still not quite ready to hear the word come out of Rose Tyler's mouth, especially in the presence of others. 

Trollock fell onto a knee, and bowed his head in supplication to the Doctor. 

"Rose, why's he doing that?" the Doctor asked as Rose turned to look at the man. 

"I think he's worshipping you or somethin'," she whispered into his ear with a laugh. 

"Blimey! I have a reputation here." He pulled on his ear. "Hello, I'm the Doctor. Just... stop... don't do that. Why don't you get up off of that floor and we'll have a proper chat." 

The man slowly stood, visibly shaking. "You are the Doctor. The Destroyer of Worlds. And you are here. We have... threatened your wife, not me, but... my people... and... I... I beg mercy, Doctor." 

"Mercy? Why are you begging mercy? Of me?" He cackled a laugh. "Why would I go and do anything to you? Looks like you were trying to help my Rose, not hurt her. Now, if you were trying to do something else, that would be another story altogether, but you aren't so, well..." 

"I've read the histories... the stories... you are fearsome!" he said, in awe. 

"Oh yes. I can be. But... really I'm just a nice bloke when it comes down to it," he said scrunching his face and nodding his head back and forth. 

Rose stifled a laugh. "Doctor, this is Captain Trollock. He sprung us from the jail. But we have to go and find Penelope. They're married! She and the prince! In secret!" Rose added, conspiratorially. 

"I know!" He gossiped back with a giggle. 

"But, she thinks her husband here, the prince, is dead and that we..." she motioned back and forth to herself and the prince and then pulled the Doctor's head back down to her mouth and whispered, in detail, the what she had witnessed in the colonnade above, earlier that night. 

His eyes went wide and he made an odd embarrassed laughing sound. "Well no wonder Penny has put you in the dog house." 

Rose shot him a judgmental glare, "You didn't just say that. That was really rude, Doctor." 

"Thing is, Penelope doesn't trust you," he continued without a beat, and you're right Rose Tyler." The Doctor became deadly serious. "We do have to find Penelope right now. I can feel it. Something bad is coming if we don't stop her." 

"Stop her from what?" the prince finally spoke. "Killing herself." 


	15. Ch 14 - Neither Black Nor White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life isn't always so clear-cut, and neither are villains. Warning in notes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a non-explicit reference to non-consensual sex in this chapter. Additionally, the title does NOT have to do with the non-con. It has to do with the root cause of her actions. Please message me if you wish to know more details. whoinwhoville on tumblr.

"Thing is, Penelope doesn't trust you," he continued without a beat, and you're right Rose Tyler." The Doctor became deadly serious. "We do have to find Penelope right now. I can feel it. Something bad is coming if we don't stop her." 

"Stop her from what?" the prince finally spoke.  
"Killing herself.  
"How can you possibly know this?" the prince cried out half in horror half in doubt. 

"How did my wife call me to her with just a song? How did I escape your sister's guard? How could I talk to Dame Gertrude even though there is a telepathic dampening field in place? Hmm?" The Doctor straightened up proudly and put on a half grin. "I'm the Doctor. I'm a Time Lord. I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the Constellation of Kasterborous. I'm 900 and... some on years old," Rose squeezed his hand and snickered, "and I'm the man who's gonna save your wife, your dogs and your kingdom, and therefore, the very planet of Barcelona itself. You got a problem with that?" 

Trollock stood a little taller and bolder, the prince hunched his shoulders a little more, and Rose looked at him with love, squeezing his hand all the more tightly. As long as they remained hand- in-hand their full telepathic link remained intact, and whatever was said was translated for her in her mind. 

"So, this is the plan," the Doctor began. "Renauldo is on his way to alert Penelope that you are still alive. We are going to meet them in the grand statuary–" 

"Renauldo." The prince swallowed hard, remembering the Doctor's pronouncement that he was in charge, but even so, he felt compelled to speak his mind. "That... traitor alerted the guards. He is the one responsible for the arrest of your wife, Doctor," he accused, his voice tightly controlled. 

"I know that," the Doctor countered seriously. "I also know that he volunteered to alert your wife that you, Prince, are alive. Right now, he is risking his neck for you. He chose to stop being a victim and coward. There is always a choice, remember that." 

The Doctor squeezed Rose's hand and they continued their long trudge. The steep incline gave way to shallow steps and then switchbacks as they wound their way up from the belly of the palace into the upper turrets and structures towards the statuary garden. The prince remained 

silent. 

"Trollock, tell me about yourself. You certainly know your history, and you're well-educated given your accent and breadth of knowledge, so why is it that you are working the night shift in the dungeon?" 

The Doctor's blunt question caught the man off guard, but then he half-smiled sardonically. "Used to be a member of the king's own guard. Was banished to dungeon duty, stripped of my rank and command." His breathing was a bit labored as they continued their ascent. "But at least I still have a job... and my head." 

"When did the trouble start?" asked the Doctor. 

"When I started asking questions, that's when." He looked over at the prince in silent accusation. "I kept my position when the queen took over – Prince mother. Remained on her personal guard. But when Princess Jovankava was crowned, I began to question some of her behavior. She was erratic, cruel even. She was personally meting out punishment to those in my command. No monarch has the right or duty to discipline the royal guard. They can request that we discipline our own, but constitutionally, a monarch just doesn't have the authority." 

"Like what kind of erratic?" the Doctor asked, curious. 

"Here's just one example. A new man was assigned to the guard. His first day of duty, he was part of an escort to take her into the city. She went berserk. Ran at him, put her hands around his throat and started to strangle the man. She was screaming and yelling something fierce. Almost like she was possessed. Kept raving about the color of the poor man's hair and skin. Said no one of his coloration was allowed in her presence." 

"But Barcelona has no history of prejudice based upon skin color, does it?" the Doctor asked, confused. 

"No. We don't, and I don't believe it was that. It was obvious she took an immediate dislike to the man, even though they never spoke, not once." 

"Maybe he reminded her of someone," Rose suggested. "Doctor, ask Trollock what he looked like, and then ask Ferdin if he seems familiar." 

The Doctor passed along the questions. 

"He sounds like he is of Mandrolean decent. Svaldalusia has assimilated many races due to our prior open border policy, hence the many skin tones you see. However, most nations on Barcelona remain racially distinct. Mandroleans have that dark midnight blue skin and hair that Trollock described," the prince explained. 

"Hey, isn't Mandrolea the country I was accused of spyin' for, Ferdin?" 

"Yes, it was. We've always had stable relations with the Mandroleans, though I wouldn't call them allies. More like... best enemies." 

"Frenemies," Rose added with a grin. 

"Mandrolea was the country that Jovankava was in when the trade mission was cut short," Captain Trollock added. 

"Mandrolea, eh?" the Doctor replied. "When I was with the queen, I found a listening device that had been hidden inside of a hideous nicknack that the Mandrolean ambassador had given her 

recently. Coincidence?" He asked, clearly thinking quite the opposite. 

"Are you deducing, Doctor?" Rose asked with a flirty smile. 

"I am, Rose Tyler," he replied. "Continue with your story, Trollock." 

"A lady-in-waiting pulled her off of the poor fellow, and she calmed down. None of us had dared to lay a hand on the woman to come to the poor man's aid. We were all afraid for our necks." 

The Doctor furrowed his brows in thought. 

"So I requested an audience with the Council, told them about the incident, and gave other examples, and next thing I know, I am down here in charge of the rats and rabble. Present company excepted.” 

"Trollock, I never knew, I am really very sorry," Prince Ferdin offered kindly. 

Trollock stopped, and halted the prince with a hand to his shoulder. "You never knew because you never asked." He wasn't bitter, but spoke as a father would admonish a son for thoughtlessness. 

As the men talked amongst themselves, the Doctor and Rose fell back a bit to give them privacy to work out their differences. 

"By the way, how come I can understand those two now?" Rose wiggled her pointer finger at Captain Trollock and Prince Ferdin as they trudged onward. 

The Doctor held up their clasped hands and shook. "I've stepped in and taken the place of the TARDIS as translator. Sort of. Well, not really. They still can't understand you..." 

"S'plains the weird looks they've given me. What do I sound like to 'em?"  
The Doctor made a gargling sound in his throat and clicked his tongue a few times. 

Rose raised an eyebrow and sputtered a laugh, eliciting a happy grin and a shoulder bump from the Doctor. 

"I'm just kidding. Just distorted. You sound like an old reel-to-reel tape that's been slowed down and stretched a bit. Some of what you're saying they understand, other bits are garbled." 

"Doctor, we can't hold hands forever... sort of impractical, really, not that it isn't really nice, mind, but can you fix it? Us?" 

"We aren't broken, Rose. Our bond is intact, just... sort of clogged, like a drainpipe filled with too much hair and gunk. The water can drain, but it is slow." He stopped when he saw the look of disgust on Rose's face, and then continued. "The queen has a telepathic dampening field generator somewhere in this palace. It's why the dogs can no longer communicate to each other or their bipeds. When she found out I wasn't going to give in to her decidedly poor skills of seduction, she turned it on us." 

"How did she know about us?" Rose screeched a bit. 

"I," he tugged his ear, "sort of blurted it out. I'm just so proud and happy to bonded to you Rose, I couldn't keep it inside." 

"I guess can forgive you for that." Rose jumped up and pecked his cheek. 

"Besides, no weak little telepathic dampening field thing is going to usurp a Gallifreyan marriage bond. That is so much stronger... we are so much stronger than some wavelength modified electromagnetic pulse, and we have the TARDIS on our side too. She's been helping fend off the full effect." 

"Remind me to thank her when we get back... home." She turned and grinned. "Home! Us!" She swung their arms gleefully. 

"Brilliant!" The Doctor kissed her sweetly on the lips and smiled brightly back. "Do you have a plan?" she asked, scrunching her nose.  
"Nope."  
"Didn't think so," she replied. 

oOo 

Penelope sat on the tufted velvet cushion of the window seat, staring down at the jagged rocks below. Her racking sobs had subsided now to spasms, though her tears were spent. Today she lost her husband twice: first to the breaking of their sacred wedding vows and a second time to a violent death. She had watched helplessly as the recovery team had abseiled down the sheer rock face to retrieve the bodies of the lovers. She had refused to move from the spot, wrapped up in her soft blanket, surrounded by spent handkerchiefs. Her ladies' maid had left to retrieve the royal physician for a sedative. 

Light, feminine footsteps echoed up the stone spiral stairwell, but she remained in her place, staring now out the window at the inky, star-filled sky. 

"So I take you heard the news about Ferdie." It was Jovankava. 

Without looking at the woman, Penelope broke her silence. "Leave me alone to my grief, Jo. You've taken everything else from me, at least give me the dignity of mourning in private." 

"Poor little Penny. All alone in her lonely tower." Jovankava surveyed the room. "It isn't too bad in here really. I could have made it a lot worse for you. There's always the dungeon. At least you have books, a maid, meals, a bit of exercise running up and down the spiral staircase. You can go up to your rooftop patio. Lovely view of the rocks below. Perhaps you would like a closer look. All you have to do is step out into the air and you will be reunited with your Ferdin." 

"You cruel, cruel woman." Penny snapped her head and looked straight at Jovankava, letting the blanket slip from her shoulders as she clenched her fists. 

"Measure your words carefully, Penelope, there is no one to protect you any longer." 

Penelope breathed heavily, chest heaving in anger and pain as she fought and lost the battle to yet another onslaught of tears. 

"How does that make you feel? Frightening isn't it? To be all on your own surrounded by a pack of rabid angry... dogs." The queen said the word venomously, with a wicked smile. 

"Why do you hate me Jo?" she cried. "I have tried and tried to figure out something... anything that I did to you, and I can come up with nothing! We were the closest of friends, you and me." 

"Friends, ha!" she spat. 

"Well I believed it! And I have given up trying to figure out what I may have done to slight you or... or... hurt you! Anything that would warrant this torture. Won't you tell me? Please?" Penelope sobbed, trying to grasp onto some bit of a lifeline from her old life. 

Jovankava walked in a circle surveying the room, picking up the modest treasures that she had managed to collect from the scant few visitors over the past fifteen years. 

"The ironic thing, Penelope Prado, is you didn't do anything directly. But it may as well have been you." She turned and hissed. "So you were as good as any to take the blame." Jovankava's voice was steadily increasing in icy timbre. She gritted her teeth and continued. "If it weren't for those dogs you love so much, you wouldn't be in this position. I wouldn't have had the crown forced onto my head! I would be living a lovely, solitary life in perfectly beautiful backwater castle somewhere on the cold side of Barcelona, doting wife to a silly but lovable prince who is second or third or even fourth in line for his crown." She was pacing now, eyes wild with anger. "Nothing expected of me. Nothing to lose. But instead here I am, Queen of Svaldalusia. Hated. Bitter. Lonely. Haunted every single day by the memory of my dead father and the living ghost of an insane mother... Knowing that I was the one responsible for all of it!" she shouted, her face red with rage. 

Penelope shakily rose from the bed and approached her former friend. "Jo, what do you mean?" She had momentarily forgotten the surreal reality of her grief. 

"Why should you care? Hmm? You and my brother, you just sat and watched me crumble! You did nothing! Nothing! I begged them to remove it! I begged! And no one would listen!" 

"Remove what?" Penny asked, nearly as anguished as the woman whom she had asked. 

"The chip!" Jovankava growled the word. "The chip. I have seen things that no one should ever have to see. Forced to do things like... like a wooden marionette on strings!" A new look overshadowed the woman's face. "Why didn't you help me?" she asked like a lost little girl. "No one would help me. Everyone stood back and let it simply happen. Let them do those things to me... Made me do horrible things..." 

"Jo, I have no idea what you're talking about," Penelope whispered, frightened as the woman seemed to swing from sanity to madness and back again. A new look had come over the face of the queen, a terrifying, blank look, as if she were out of control. 

"No, you wouldn't, would you?" Gone was the timid, childish voice of a terrified young woman that had made a short appearance, and the angry hurt woman who had been abused. In its place was the woman that Jovankava had become, the cold, heartless woman into whom the kind friend of youth had metamorphosed. 

"My father the King took me to Mandrolea, remember? My first official trip. The trade mission. I was going to take the world by storm. Make my debut. Oh I made my debut all right!" She spat the words, eyes wild with rage as she recalled the night, fifteen long years prior. 

"Princess Jovankava." His Highness, Mishja Nikola, Crown Prince of Mandrolea, bowed low at the waist. His silvery-blue hair framed his face, revealing regal features, a strong, but somewhat aquiline nose and piercing sapphire blue eyes. His skin was the color of the midnight sky, and glinted slightly under the lights of he ballroom. 

"Your Highness." Eighteen year old Princess Jovankava curtseyed properly, as any good princess should in the presence of the future king of a foreign ally, especially when one thinks that said prince was the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her entire life. 

"Shall we give them what they want?" The prince looked over his shoulder at the onlookers with a gleam in his eye and mischievous smile. 

"Oh, I think we should," answered Jovankava, feeling surprisingly witty. She offered her hand, and the gallant prince placed a lingering kiss on her knuckles, and then they began their dance. 

"So, how are you enjoying your first official tour? I hope it hasn't been all business. Surely there have been some pleasures," he conversed graciously as they glided across the polished marble floor. 

"It has been a lovely trip so far, and without incident, well, other than inadvertently insulting the Duke of Groob when I complimented him on his handsome sons..." 

The prince pulled an sympathetically embarrassed face. "Oooo, he has daughters." 

"So I learned," she said as she sputtered an undignified, delightfully girlish laugh, which he joined. 

"I trust I have contributed more to the pleasure side of the equation," he offered flirtatiously. 

The princess blushed a bit and then regained her composure. "Meeting you has been the highlight of my trip so far, Mishja," Jovankava said with genuine delight as she spun in his arms to the strains of the grand orchestra. 

They danced beautifully to the adoring eyes of the onlookers, many of whom were hoping for a political marriage between the two nations. "Why not a marriage of love as well? Such a lovely couple! What children they would have!" the wives of officials said as they happily planned a royal wedding. "Their union would seal peace and prosperity for both of our kingdoms!" the ministers plotted treaties. Jovankava's father smiled to himself, thoroughly pleased. While the trade delegation was only on its second stop, he already deemed this trip a success. He hadn't anticipated this positive turn of events. He turned his back on the couple, giving his daughter privacy to make her own memories. 

"Would you care to take in some fresh air with me out on the veranda?" Jovankava nodded and the prince led her out onto a private patio which overlooked the gardens to the sea beyond. The moon reflected on the water, as its creamy light danced on the black waters of midnight. 

Perhaps it was the wine, or the music or something completely different, or maybe a combination of everything, but Jovankava's head was spinning, she was euphoric. This week had been a dream come true. It was like one of the romantic stories that she loved to read, and for which her brother had teased her incessantly. She leaned on the railing, calm on the outside, but quivering on the inside, and looked out over the water. "I'll be sorry to say goodbye to Mandrolea tomorrow," she said, hoping her voice didn't give away her nervousness. 

The prince stood behind her, enveloping her, and whispered in her ear, "You'll be sorry to say goodbye to me. That's what you are really saying, isn't it?" The handsome man turned her around in his arms so that now they were face to face. He moved in closer, so that her backside was pressed up against the waist-high railing. He drew a finger up the side of he face, and then cupped her chin and placed a kiss on her previously untouched lips. 

Jovankava stood frozen for a moment, unsure what to do, but then reflex and desire took over and she quickly melted into his kiss. His tongue teased, and she parted her lips as the kiss quickly developed into something much more heated than anything of which she had read in the chaste classical romances which were personally approved by her governess. Hands roamed, desire 

surged, lips devoured. 

The prince moved his mouth to her neck, and then down to her modestly exposed chest, where her gown dipped, offering but a hint of the untouched beauty underneath. She didn't protest when he slipped his hand under the fabric to tease a breast, and she found that body was now operating by reflex, reacting to his well-skilled touches and caresses. She wasn't thinking, simply doing. He pushed the fabric aside with his hand and placed his mouth on the nipple, swirling his tongue around, nipping and sucking while she groaned at the never-before felt sensations that were coiling in her core. 

He pulled his mouth from her nipple and looked at her with dark, lust-filled eyes "We don't have to make this goodbye, Keevie." The prince moved his hand back under the bodice of the finely embroidered gown to caress her maidenly breast. "We could make this night last into the dark hours of the morning." His voice was low and thick as he spoke into her mouth, teasing her once again with this tongue. 

Jovankava felt hypnotized under the spell of his sapphire eyes and dark lips, and she could feel her glowing, golden skin flushing under his hands. For the girl who had been hidden away in Svalda Palace, protected from the world until just the right time when she would be unveiled, presented and displayed, this offer should have been shocking and offensive. But for the young woman, who had never been before been seared by the burning gaze and held by strong arms of a handsome man, a man with adult desires and skilled words of seduction, that young woman felt thrilled, alive, wanted and needy. 

Princess Jovankava knew that the carefully cultivated ice in her veins had completely thawed, as for the first time in her life, true rushes of desire completely overwhelmed her body. She was a naive girl, completely inexperienced, and it was absolutely expected that she would remain in that state until the day of her yet-to-be carefully arranged royal match. But duty wasn't foremost in Jovankava's mind at that moment as she felt her body burning from the inside out. 

He drew her closer and for the first time ever, she felt the hard evidence of what it was to have a man who desired her as he pressed himself against her, and in response, she felt slick heat rushing to places awoken for the first time. 

So without thinking, she nodded, nearly imperceptibly, giving her foolish answer. 

"Retire to your chambers, and I will come to you. Be ready for me," he whispered into her ear darkly. He released her, and left her alone and burning in the cold night air... 

"Swept off of my feet by the handsome crown prince. He even gave me the Star of Vlotsok. He said it matched my eyes," she said wistfully. "It wasn't a gift. It was a curse." Jovankava's face contorted in painful memory. 

"Jo, I-"  
"I... Am... Talking!" she hissed, teeth bared like a rabid dog.  
Penelope startled and backed towards the open window as they queen advanced upon her. 

"The last night we were there, he asked me if he could visit me in the night. It was dangerous and exciting, and it was nothing that I was and everything I wasn't and foolishly, I agreed." Her voice squeaked out the words. "He came to my chambers. He slipped the necklace around my neck, told me I would be his first, last and only lover. He made promises and I believed his lies. He said our kingdoms could be united." 

Jovankava turned and sat on the end of the bed, slumped over. 

"But instead of coming into my bed, he went into my mind. He temporarily linked me to... to himself. He read my secret thoughts, stole the secrets my father had entrusted me to keep safe. Our bargaining chips, negotiation strategies... He blocked my ability to communicate with my dog so I couldn't even cry out for help. And when he saw that you were secretly and illegally engaged to my brother, he knew he finally had an in, a way to usurp our kingdom, gain an upper hand. He was going to clear the way to get me on the throne, and with me working for him, Svaldlusia would fall like a leaf from a tree in a stiff wind." 

Penelope dropped herself hard back down onto the window seat. 

"He told me that he had reprogrammed my implant so that he could monitor my movements. It was the necklace... Something about that gem... But what he didn't tell me... Instead he showed me how he... could now control me, and he warned me that I would be putting my father's life in jeopardy should I tell anyone what he had done. And so... he tested the device. He changed my fear into desire and forced me to... to throw myself at him. Controlled every movement, every action, every thing that I did and touched and..." She took on a faraway look. "My brain wanted it but my heart didn't!" Jovankava began suddenly started to weep violently and pull at her hair. "When he was finished with his... satisfaction, he stroked my hair. He kissed me tenderly and I kissed him back, controlled by him of course. He told me he loved me." She laughed sardonically. "The bastard had the gall to tell me that I was the queen of his heart. Of course I was. I am his puppet queen." 

Penelope continued to listen in silent shock. 

"My body and my will were being manipulated while my heart was restrained. So if anyone were to ask me about that night, I could only answer that it had been mutual... I had taken my first lover. But I didn't Penelope Prado. I didn't. He forced himself on me. What he did to me was no different than had I been tied down and violated with a knife to my throat." 

Penelope was quietly crying now for her one-time friend. 

"After my father died, I tried so hard to keep you and Ferdie apart because... I... I knew if he married you, he would lose the crown, and I... I would have to take it, and then he would have control of the country and..." 

"You were trying to save us," Penny whispered through sobs. Jovankava nodded silently.  
"But why are you telling me this now?" 

"Because for the first time in fifteen years, I am feeling my own will in my head. My own wishes. I have known all along what I was doing was wrong, but I was literally unable to stop myself! But it comes and goes Penny. A few moments ago, I was trying to manipulate you to jump out of that window," she pointed at the opening behind Penelope. 

"Wha...why would would you want me to kill myself? Isn't it enough that your brother is dead?" Penny began to cry afresh. 

"But he's not." Jovankava stood up from the bed and sniffed. "He isn't dead. I... I need to leave before... while I still can... before I... do..." She shook her hands in frustration and fled the room without another word, leaving the door ajar behind her. 

Penelope heard the sound of the queen's shoes hastily slapping the stone as she quickly made her 

way down the tower stairs. 

oOo 

The Doctor stopped abruptly and turned to Rose. "Do you feel that?" 

"What?" she asked simply. 

The Doctor looked at his bride and smiled, showing her what he saw. 

"Time... it's being re-written," he said in awe. "Penelope knows. Renauldo must have made it to the tower." 

Just then, a crackling sound filled the air, and Rose and the Doctor felt the full rushing warmth of the TARDIS's song as she flowed into their minds like surging floodwaters, and then receded a bit, settling back into a comforting background hum. 

"The dampening field generator. I think that it's been turned off," the Doctor announced. 

"I can hear Dame Gertrude!" the prince shouted. "And is she pissed off." He cleared his throat. "Erm, pardon my crude language, Rose," the prince apologized. 

Rose laughed. "I don't care! At least you don't sound like you're talkin' under water," Rose pointed and laughed gleefully at Prince Ferdin and Captain Trollock. 

"Allons-y!" The Doctor surged ahead of the prince with a spring in his step, keeping a firm hold of Rose's hand. 

"Where we goin'?" Rose asked as he took the lead, opened a door and pulled her out of the passageway. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the brighter, though still dim light of the gas lamp-lit corridor somewhere inside of the palace. 

"That's a question for the Prince now, innit?" The Doctor turned to Rose and then faced Ferdin. "It's your kingdom, after all. You tell us. Where should we go?" The Doctor faced the man who had a look of relief on his face, like the cares of the world had been lifted. 

The prince cleared his throat and wiped stray tears from his face. "Dame Gertrude informs me I..." he said, his voice watery, "I am wanted in the kennels. My mother has regained her faculties." 

"What about your sister? The Queen?" asked Rose. "The dogs have her." 


	16. Ch 15 - Self Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventure concludes.

The kennels were silent save the sound of paws padding on the hard, straw-strewn floor and quiet sobbing echoing deep from the dark, far recesses of the royal kennels. 

The queen mother sat in her wheelchair stroking the fur of an enormous pure white dog who stood by her side. 

Prince Ferdin burst into the kennels and stared at his mother in shock. "Is... Is it... It's true? Are you... really... It has been so long since I've seen such light, such vibrance in your... your eyes!" He looked at her with awe. 

"Thy fawning platitudes silly art, Ferdin! Words hast I for thou, my son." The tone of her voice was firm as she pointed a finger at her eldest child. "Destroyed the evil device from wence our noblest dogs have suffered, didst I! I a feeble old woman! Why it wert not thou, a virile man, knowest I not! So to me the task was left, an old woman. Put an end to the assault on our royal household and our faithful and most esteemed dogs didst I. Ashamed shouldst thou be Prince Ferdin!" 

The prince stood humiliated, all pride gone from his heart. "Mummy?" he said in a quiet, childlike voice. 

"Jovankava my daughter, thou art here knowest I! Thyself showest!" Her tone was firm, but no longer angry. "Into the light step, so thou I mayest see." 

Jovankava emerged slowly from the second kennel accompanied by a golden dog. The woman's hair had been cut chin-length, somewhat haphazardly. 

"Penance I see thou hast begun. A fair start this art." The queen mother nodded her approval. "And thine hair, burned it thou hast?" 

"Yes, my honored mother." Jovankava fell to her knees and pressed her forehead to the straw- covered floor. 

"And the throne thou hast abdicated, true art this?" asked her mother. 

"Yes my honored mother. It is yours by right," she replied meekly. 

"Arise my daughter." 

Jovankava stood slowly but her head remained bowed, her shoulders weak, slumped in shame. 

"The Assembly and the Ambassadors thine fate wilt decide. Regicide and patricide committed thou hast. Sayest thou what to these charges?" 

"To my dearest family, the Ambassadors and all citizens of Svaldalusia, I graciously and humbly ask forgiveness." Silent tears streamed from the woman's eyes. 

Every single dog in the kennel emerged from formerly locked pens and surrounded the woman. They were neither aggressive nor friendly. They simply stood and waited. 

"Jovankava, is this true?" Ferdin asked his sister, aghast at the charges leveled by their mother. She nodded, her eyes closed and head bowed. 

"Killed your father she didst," she charged firmly, "though not with her own hand." Her tone had softened. "And of her own mind it wert not." The queen fell silent and watched her daughter, standing defeated in the middle of a kennel. "Manipulated and used has she been. A great treachery has been purported upon our fair kingdom and thine own sister by the perfidious king and prince of Mandrolea. Our allies wert they, yet used thy sister they didst most cruelly. The dampening field generator smuggled into our kingdom didst they. Controlled her mind... Stole her will..." 

The Doctor and Rose stood in silence towards the back of the room and simply watched as the Svaldlusian royal family's tragedy was exposed. Rose's gripped the Doctor's hand tightly as the story unfolded. 

"It's time for us to go," the Doctor whispered into her ear. 

He put his arm around Rose's shoulder and together they turned to leave but the queen called after them. "Doctor, Rose Tyler, leaving art thou?" 

The Doctor pulled a face. "Well, seems as if you lot have figured things out on your own. Don't need me anymore now do you?" 

"The Mandroleans, they committed an act of war! You have to do... something about this! You can't just leave us now!" Prince Ferdin demanded angrily. 

"That's something for you to handle, not me," he replied. "You have started the ball rolling all on your own now that the telepathy disrupter has been stopped. Good for you, Queen Mum!" he said warmly, nodding her direction. "Tell me. How'd you do it?" 

"Unplugged it," she replied simply. 

"Penny? Where... where's Penny?" Ferdin interrupted. 

"With her brother art she, hidden and safe from the traitorous guards," replied the queen. 

"I must go to her!" he began to leave. 

"Stop!" the queen mother thundered. "Far too long it has been since her brother she didst see. One sub cycle waitest thou wilt." 

The prince's shoulders slumped once again at his mother's reprimand. 

"But what about Jovankava, Doctor?" Prince Ferdin asked quietly. "Who knows what damage has been done to her mind by the Mandroleans!" His voice once again gained fervor. "Who is going to help her?" 

"Doctor? Can't you help her?" Rose asked quietly. 

"That... I can do." He walked to the now humble woman wearing simple grey robes. "I'm not going to hurt you, Jovankava. I'm going to look into your mind and neutralize the implant, all right?" 

"I can't... I don't want anyone... in my head... I'm afraid..." She backed away, but the dogs created a path as Rose and the Doctor slowly approached the woman. Rose laid her hand on the woman's arm. "It's all right. I promise. He can help you." 

"Why would you want to let him help me? I tried to seduce your husband," she asked, dubious of Rose's intentions. 

"But was it really you?" asked the Doctor. "No," she replied quietly. 

"If anyone understands being out of control, bein' forced to do things with someone else in your head, it's me." 

"You do?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah. I do. Please, let him help," she pleaded empathetically. 

Jovankava looked at her mother and her brother, both of whom nodded their encouragement, and she in turn, nodded her assent to the Doctor. 

The Doctor approached her and placed his fingers on her temples. "If there is anything you don't want me to see, imagine a closed door. And..." he hesitated for a moment before offering, "if there is any memory you want removed, imagine a red door, and I will wipe that memory away, never to be seen again. All right?" 

The woman nodded, her body shaking with fear. Rose took her stands into her own and held them tightly, comforting her. 

"Your mind is wide open, Jovankava. Don't you want any of these memories erased? Not even this one?" He looked into a room and looked away as the memory of the last night in Mandrolea played out. 

"I want to remember, Doctor. I need to know it was real. I've lived fifteen grand cycles hovering between dream and reality. I must know what I did so that I can ask forgiveness of those whom I hurt. It is penance." 

The Doctor furrowed his brow but nodded in understanding. He neutralized what little danger the tampered implant still held, erected a wall of protection around the woman's mind so that no further damage could be done should another telepathic attack be leveled at her, and withdrew his own consciousness, dropping his hands from her head. 

Jovankava hurried to her mother and hugged her, and then to her brother and embraced him. "I'm so sorry. Had I had better judgement that night, none of this would have happened." 

"Daughter, knowest that thou canst not. Another way the Crown Prince mayest have found. And my sweet Jovankava, so ashamed that to thou listen I didst not. Thine own heart didst thou pour out to me, and ignorest thou didst I." 

Without saying a word, the Doctor and Rose quietly stole away.

oOo  
Rose and the Doctor walked into the early morning light as it shone on an exterior corridor. 

"So what now? Do you think they'll recover? The country I mean?" 

"They'll be fine." He paused to look at Rose for a moment as her hair glowed in the pink light of dawn. "Or maybe not..." he added slowly and a bit sadly. 

"What... what do you mean?" she looked at him with concern. 

"Things don't always turn out the way we think they should, Rose. Sometimes the right timeline isn't the kindest one." 

They walked hand-in-hand in silence for a while until the Doctor broke the quiet, sensing Rose could use some reassurance after the ordeal they had undergone. 

"The queen and her government need to figure those things out on their own. And the dogs have been telepathically re-linked to their bipeds after all, and I bet they'll give good advice." 

"And Queen Jovankava? What happens to her? Do you know?" 

He sighed. "I don't know. I just don't know. I can't really recall ever seeing her name in future history, Rose. But I tell you what. When we get back to the TARDIS, I'll take a look and see what happened, hmm? History books will have caught up now, and... well, we'll see." 

"Thanks." She squeezed his hand and yawned.  
"I can't imagine what she has gone through, poor woman." "But you do, don't you?" he replied, his voice earnest. 

Rose smiled sadly. "Yeah, I guess I do." She tried to stifle a second yawn. "I guess it was a good thing that we ended up here when we did. For all of my complaining about your bad driving, we usually do end up being where and when we need to be, don't we Doctor?" 

He smiled. "I think the TARDIS has more to do with it than me most of the time." He half smiled. "She was the one after all who broke through the telepathic dampening field in the first place to talk to the dogs, and Jovankava... and the Queen Mother..." 

"Really?" Rose asked, surprised. 

"Mmm hmm. Don't know that I can recall a time her every doing that before, but I could be wrong," he smiled. 

"You? Wrong?" she said sarcastically, and he smirked a bit. "So I'm not exactly sure what we actually did here," she said with a confused look. 

He raised his eyebrow at her and showed her a few pleasurable mental images. 

"To help I mean," she bit her lip and bumped his shoulder. 

"The Doctor put his arm around Rose's shoulders and pulled her close into his side. Rose put her hand on his chest and felt the double beat of his hearts. "You encouraged the prince to get off his duff and try to escape, and I had a nice chat or two with some dogs, you got to have dinner with a real live prince, there was that visit to the dungeon. And... of course there is that little matter of bonding. Good days' work I'd say." 

"Yeah, there is that," she wrinkled her nose and then grabbed his lapels, pulling him into a searing kiss. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. 

"Blimey, what was that for?" he asked, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks. 

"Because I can," she replied bumping his nose. "Can we go say goodbye to Miss Minchin? During the day I mean, not now... it's what? About four in the morning?" Rose yawned, the lack of sleep finally catching up. 

"Thereabouts. Shall we go to bed for a little while wife?" he said suggestively in her ear. "I need to sleep!" she said firmly. 

"Rose Tyler, you have your whole life to sleep, but we only one honeymoon, now don't we, hmm?" 

"So are we officially on our honeymoon then?" she asked, flirtatiously. 

"Course it is! Always knew there was a reason I wanted to bring you to Barcelona. But how about I take you to the seaside. It's lovely on the coast! Little pink villages hanging onto the cliffside. Quaint little shops, bistros, banana groves. I want to give you a proper honeymoon... the kind where you lay on a towel in the sand all day in some tiny swimming costume, drinkin' cocktails with little umbrellas." 

Rose laughed. 

"Whatsofunny?" he asked, hurt. 

"I'm picturing you in brown pinstriped swim trunks." 

"Oi! I happen to have blue swim trunks!" 

"You do?" 

"Course I do. I take a dip in the pool from time to time." 

"Do they have private beaches?" she asked with a glint in her eye. "I wouldn't even need a bathing suit then," she offered flirtatiously. 

"It's a date," he growled.  
"A proper date," she replied.  
"A real and proper datey-date except with snogging and shagging and married things." 

She sighed and leaned into his side, exhausted as they walked away from the kennels, to their guest room, where the Doctor did, indeed, allow his pink and yellow human a chance to actually sleep for a few hours. 

Once Rose was adequately rested, they quickly and quietly stole out of the castle using the tunnels, now that the Doctor had decoded the pictographic directional system, and it was a quick exit given it was downhill all the way. They were deposited right in the city itself. They laughed as they found that they had emerged through the base of a statue dedicated to the noble noseless dogs in a city green. The streets were now starting to fill with people out doing their morning errands, on their way to work, living their day-to-day lives, probably completely unaware of the events which had occurred in the palace high above the city. 

They wound their way through the serpentine streets and lanes to the home of the gracious woman who had given them shelter just a day before. 

"Seems like a million years since we've been here, so much has happened," Rose said, as the Doctor knocked on the familiar door. 

The little side window through which she had looked down on them that first night once again framed her merry face. "Doctor! Rose Tyler! Come back thou hast! Such news hath I! Such good news! Come in! Please! Unlocked the door is!" 

The Doctor opened the door and together they entered the lovely little home. 

"My Horatio, heard from his pack he hath! Such news from the palace!" "Yes. We know." The Doctor looked at Rose and smiled simply.

"We have something to tell you, as well, Miss Minchin," Rose began. 

Horatio lumbered up to the Doctor. "Mate! Mate!" He barked. 

Miss Minchin looked at Horatio, and then back at Rose and the Doctor and smiled, clasping her hands. 

"True art this? Wedded art thou?"

"Yeah!" Rose gushed, and the Doctor beamed, swinging their hands between them. 

"Then a celebration hath we must. Come! Come! Tea and cake and..." she stopped, regarding their faces. "Leavest thou must," she said simply. 

"Yeah," the Doctor drawled. "We don't usually stick around in one place too long. Besides, I have promised my Rose a proper honeymoon. Going to take her to the seaside." 

"Lovely," she clasped her hands in front of her. "Well, goodbye my dear friends. And felicitations. Knewest I thou wert in love." 

Rose and the Doctor left Miss Minchin's home, and waved over their shoulders as they made their way down the pavement on their long walk back up the mountain to the TARDIS. 


	17. Postlogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> History lesson and a visit to the Doctor and Rose Memorial Museum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story (again, maybe?). I've always had a bit of hesitation in the back of my mind about this fic. It seemed slightly cracky. I hope it isn't too out-there.

## Postlogue

Much had happened since that fateful day: the corruption within the ranks of the Queen's Own Guard had been eradicated; spies within the Assembly and the general populace had been rooted out, tried and imprisoned; the pharmaceuticals which had halted the ability for the telepathic dogs to procreate had been neutralized. The general population had begun to trust all dogs again. The queen herself had made the official proclamation rescinding the sham curfew and humbly explaining the reasons behind what had been known as the Wasting disease. 

The citizens of Svaldalusia offered an outpouring of sympathy and support for their former queen, and when the time for sentencing came, the outcry to commute the penalty of lifelong imprisonment in the dungeon was overwhelming, and the people were satisfied, as the sentence was commuted. However, Princess Jovankava imposed upon herself her own imprisonment, choosing to live a quiet, humble life in the same tower room which she had once banished her former friend, Penelope. Understandably, she chose not to become telepathically linked to a dog. Instead, she chose to raise a non-telepathic pup. She worked in the kennels during the day, lovingly caring for the physical needs of the dogs whom she had once so cruelly separated from their bipeds. The dogs came to trust her, love her even, and told her often through messages from their humans. She chose not to re-grow her hair, deciding to keep it in the style of Rose Tyler as a reminder of the woman who had done more for her than Rose would ever know. 

Penelope and Ferdin reunited, of course, though their reunion was not without its hurdles. They were desperately in love, but so much time apart had changed them both. However, they were committed to one another, and quickly found that the changes they had undergone just meant that both of them had matured, and they fell in love all over again, this time, as adults. The queen insisted upon a proper royal wedding, they grudgingly obliged, feeling a bit silly for all of the attention. A formal petition for recognition was filed and was under deliberation. 

The prince himself perhaps had changed the most out of them all. He personally spearheaded the government and military shakedown. Good order and discipline were quickly restored. He was involved with the day to day details of ruling a nation, shadowing his mother, who was quite the force to be reckoned with, and even intimidated him at times. 

The dogs were quickly reintegrated into society, both in the Assembly and daily palace life. News spread quickly amongst the telepathic dogs of Barcelona of what had happened in Svaldlusia. While the dogs of the other nations had not been telepathically broken from their bipeds, they had been drugged as well, virtually blocking their ability to reproduce telepathic offspring, and they could now tell their biped counterparts why their numbers were dwindling. Soon the nations of Barcelona began to heal their dogs, and the effects began to reverse. 

oOo 

Mother and son sat in the queen's parlor sharing their ritual afternoon tea. The early afternoon summer sun streamed in, washing the room with pleasant light. 

"Mother, when did you start feeling your mind clearing?" asked Prince Ferdin. 

"It was the day that strange man in the brown suit, the Doctor, and that pretty-ish woman arrived." 

"Jo said the same thing. She told me she started feeling strong enough to fight the control after he rejected her." The prince stopped and looked at her with an amused grin. "Mother, I have noticed that you aren't speaking in the old tongue any longer. Why?" 

"Tradition stole my daughter and your sister from us. Your father would probably still be alive as well. I should have listened to her when she asked to have that chip removed. And... and frankly, I have difficulty keeping up with it. Miss Minchin was always so much better than I," she laughed. 

"She's coming for a visit, just checked in at the guard shack. She's bringing Horatio with her." 

The large dog next to Prince Ferdin stood from her seated position and wagged her tail expectantly. 

The prince looked down at her. "Of course you are invited, Gertie." He patted her head fondly, and she sat back down once again. 

"Oh I'm so pleased that she is coming," said the Queen. "I saw that bumbleberry cream cake is on the menu for tea. It's her favorite." The queen looked at her son, and smiled softly. "I see that you drafted and submitted your petition for the formal recognition for your marriage." 

"Yes. Penny has waited long enough for me to be a proper, responsible husband." 

"I have it on good authority that the Ambassadors have offered their official support of your petition. When your–" 

"Don't you mean if?" he asked. 

"No, I mean when," she said firmly, and then softened. "When your marriage is formally recognized I will be announcing that I'm passing the crown to you, Ferdin. But you must promise me something." 

"What's that Mother?"  
"Don't let tradition for the sake of tradition dictate your decisions. Listen to wise counsel." 

"But, I'm not going to forget the past, either, Mother. I've learned my lesson on that account." He sat down on a hard bench by the window. "I've engaged the services of a professor of history from the University. I need to know our history. I need to know about the nations with which we choose to ally ourselves." 

"Oh?" replied the queen, clearly pleased, but trying to hide her emotion. 

"If anything good came from the Jovankava Tragedy," as the fifteen year event had come to be known, "I learned that I am wholly unprepared for the... the inevitable... the... crown, that is," he said a bit sheepishly. 

"You know something I don't? Clairvoyant now art thou?" the queen asked in mock affront, slipping back into her old speech pattern. 

"No, no!" he said, a bit defensively. 

"I'm teasing, son," she replied warmly, and touched his hand. 

"You are so gullible!" Dame Gertrude laughed into his mind 

There was a knock on the door. "Enter," the queen replied. 

"Your Majesty, the fleet is putting out to sea." 

"Thank you." 

"Mother, do you really think that invading Mandrolea is the best course of action?" 

"Is sitting back and letting Mandrolea get away with what they did to your father, sister and our nation for fifteen grand cycles the best course of action?" 

"It could be a long and drawn out war." 

"You are right. But they may also see reason when they are at the end of a sharp spear," she said with a single raised eyebrow. "Either way, we have the support of our allies and more importantly, the support of our citizenry. We tried all diplomatic channels, but they refused to extradite Crown Prince Mishja to face justice." The queen handed him a folio with the seal of the Royal Scientific Caucus. "The final report has been filed. The device that blocked the telepathic capabilities of our dogs was also a modified psychograft." 

"What?" The prince exclaimed as he opened the folio and found the abstract which gave a high level overview of their analysis in layman's terms. 

"Prince Mishja Nikola grafted his will onto Jo's mind. If it weren't for the Doctor, Jovankava would have eventually gone insane or died from the pressure placed upon her mind." 

"Do you think they'll ever come back? The Doctor and Rose Tyler?" 

"Do you think they'll ever come back? The Doctor and Rose Tyler?" 

"I don't believe they will, at least not in our lifetimes," she answered. 

"I wonder if they will ever know how much they did for our kingdom... for us. For me. If it weren't for Rose Tyler's strong words, I may still be languishing away down in that dungeon." He closed his eyes and shook his head slightly at the thought. "Mother, I have a proposal. I would like to commission a permanent installation at the National Museum of History and Industry telling the story, complete with life-size figures, similar to those in the visitors' center funicular." 

"What a splendid idea! Do we have any visual recordings from which we can model their replicas?" 

"Yes, I do believe so." A bell chimed on the chronometer in the corner of the room. "Oh, is it really two past half cycle? The physician is coming to give Penny an antenatal checkup. I need to go." 

"Make sure you stop by and see Jovankava sometime today. She's made great strides in her therapy since the chip was removed, but she's a bit nervous about tomorrow." 

"Why?" 

"Dame Beatrice is delivering a litter any day now, and she will be assisting Renauldo with the care of the pups." 

"Telepathic?" 

"It is still unsure. They were conceived before the device was destroyed, but Dame Beatrice has told her biped that she can feel a glimmer of something coming from at least one of the pups." 

"I really do need to go Mother." The prince stood up and hastily kissed his mother on the cheek. "Give my best to Penny. Tell her I'll be by tomorrow for her knitting lesson."  
"I will."

oOo 

The Doctor and Rose had returned to Barcelona for their six month anniversary second honeymoon (third?), but more important, to celebrate that yesterday, the Doctor had found Rose Tyler in Cardiff, and had returned her safely to Jackie. Neither that lonely Doctor stuck in London nor Rose didn’t know it yet, but events had been put in motion that would lead them here: to this uninhabited island paradise on Barcelona — the planet not the city — where they were husband and wife. Bound together.

Rose and the Doctor lay side by side, basking in the warm tropical sun on their Christmas gift from Jackie Tyler: His and Hers towels. (That had made them both confused.) 

The sand was slightly turquoise on this tropical beach on the unclaimed, uninhabited island, somewhere in the middle of the ocean in the southwestern hemisphere of Barcelona. Palm-like trees swayed in the gentle tropical breeze. The TARDIS was parked where the beach met the greenery and served as cabana, bar, restaurant, and five star accommodation. 

"Do I really look like that?" asked the Doctor, groggy and relaxed from the tropical heat. 

"Look like what?" asked Rose. 

"Those dummies of me, at the museum we visited this morning." 

Rose smiled at his typical vanity, but happily fed it, as it was not unfounded. "Nope. Much better looking." 

"What? Me or the statues?"

"You of course, you daft alien. They got your hair all wrong."

"I know!" He sat up, no longer groggy. "Like I have a mullet. And my suit. It was blue Rose. 

Blue. And no tie. Just a tee shirt... thing... under a shirt. Why would I wear that?" he whinged. 

"I kind of liked it," she replied. "You should try it sometime. It would show off your chest." She rolled over on her side and teasingly ran her fingers through the hair on his now freckled and tan pectorals. "Besides, blue matches the TARDIS." 

He grinned. "Those red Chucks were sort of cool. I think I may pick up a pair when we visit your mum." 

"We do need to do that don't we?" Rose said, a bit crestfallen. 

"Yeah... But not yet. I'm not ready to leave."

"Time machine..." she said, poking her tongue between her teeth. 

"Time machine," he growled back and they lay silent for a few minutes. 

Rose broke the quiet. "What about me? Did you think they got me right? I thought they sort of enhanced my... boobs," she laughed, and sat up. "Did you see how that dummy filled out the green dress that I wore to dinner with Ferdin?" 

"Ooo, that was a really nice dress. I wish you'd kept that dress. Lovely dress. You look much better than that." 

"Really?" she asked, fishing for a compliment.

"Mmm hmmm," he growled and waggled his eyebrows, looking at her chest. "Whatareyoustarin'at?"

"What do you think?”

”Would you like... a better view?"

"Oh yes." 

With a seductive smile, the Doctor moved off of his towel and onto Rose's. He hovered over her for a moment, and then with deft fingers untied the strings of her red bikini, for a much, much better look. And of course, his trunks were soon disposed of in much the same manner as Rose's suit by her very eager hands. 

"I love you Rose Tyler." 

"And I love you, Doctor." 

And so, the Doctor and Rose Tyler went on to do all sorts of married things that married people do on their honeymoon, especially those who are lucky enough to have a TARDIS with impeccable timing and navigational skills. Because, as a wedding gift, she had found them the perfect time and place, where and when, for the first time in the history of the universe, that there wasn't one single emergency... well... maybe. 

A blue lobster-like creature approached the other-wise engaged couple with great stealth. With oversized, extremely dextrous claws, he pinched both of their swimming costumes in addition to the Doctor's sonic screwdriver. With treasures in claw, and a grin on his face, insofar as a lobster- like creature can grin, it hastily disappeared into the azure blue water. 


End file.
